Through Thick And Thin
by Wickedgal08
Summary: Set during 3x05. Klaus takes Elena away from Mystic Falls, and Stefan tags along, humanity-less, and with strict instructions to guard her. But is his humanity really beyond retrieving? And can a broken and mentally exhausted Elena coax him back from the edge? Stelena, with a healthy dose of Stebekah to boot, and also a lot of action from the Originals.
1. Echoes of What Once Was

Through Thick And Thin

...

..

.

Summary: Set during 3x05. Klaus takes Elena away from Mystic Falls, and Stefan tags along, humanity-less, and with strict instructions to guard her. But is his humanity really beyond retrieving? And can a broken and mentally exhausted Elena coax him back from the edge? Stelena, with a healthy dose of Stebekah to boot, and also a lot of action from the Originals.

.

..

...

Chapter 1

Echoes Of What Once Was

.

..

...

"Why don't you get the truck?" Klaus suggested, staring intensely at a clearly apprehensive Rebekah. "I'll get Elena."

There was a brief pause as his sister assessed his mood, and then she slid off the car she'd been resting on and blurred out of view, hopefully to do as he said. Klaus stared after her for the briefest of moments, and then strode in the direction of the hospital.

Within minutes, he'd reached Elena's room, pausing to contemplate his next move before bending over to retrieve the bag of her blood the nurse had, under his instructions, taken from her. He smiled to himself, envisioning all of his loyal future hybrids surrounding him, protecting him from any and every danger imaginable, and then carefully removed all of the hospital wires and tubes which were on and around Elena.

She stirred as he was doing all of this, her eyes flickering open, the motion barely visible to the naked eye, only to widen at what was happening, a low gasp emitting from her lips.

"What... What are you doing?" she murmured, her voice low, strained.

He smiled down at her.

"You should be resting," he chided, with an unexpected tenderness. "Go back to sleep. I'm taking you out of town."

That made her almost bolt up with alarm.

"What?" she cried, finding new energy from nowhere, her mouth poised ready to release a cry of help, but he had the initiative to lock eyes with her, compelling her back to sleep.

After that, Klaus stooped to pick her up, bridal style, which was the moment Stefan chose to appear, his eyes scanning the scene before him, a vague flicker of interest hovering in his dark eyes before he returned back to his current state of absolute indifference.

"Rebekah told me where to find you," he said, his eyes continuing to bounce from Elena to Klaus, a shadow of wariness emerging across his face. "We're leaving town?"

"Whether you come or not is your choice," Klaus spoke, his tone balancing between distant and curious, almost as though he was dangling bait from under Stefan's nose, waiting to see his reaction. "But Rebekah and I have no more business in this town now that we have the answers we need."

"You're taking Elena with you?" Stefan remarked, faintly surprised at this turn of events.

"Her blood is the key to making hybrids. It's easier if I take her with us, so we have a supply always on demand," Klaus replied, watching him for the faintest signs of a reaction that might suggest his humanity switch wasn't fully off. "Do you have a problem with that?"

"No, but my brother will," Stefan pointed out. "If you think him coming after us all summer was bad, you'll find his determination in getting Elena back will be a severe hindrance to your hybrid-making plans."

"Which is why I'm giving you two options: either you stay and find a permanent solution to that problem, or you come with us and fend Damon off that way. I'm surprised he hasn't made an appearance tonight to rescue his damsel." A sly smile emerged on Klaus' face. "Or am I wrong in assuming that things between them have changed to that level?"

Stefan gave a stiff laugh, one that sounded derivative, flat, but nonetheless gave away no signs that Klaus' comment had bothered him in some way. He folded his arms, gave Elena a quick glance, before casting his gaze around the hospital.

"I want to come with you," he eventually decided. "There's nothing here for me anymore. If Damon comes after us, I can take care of him."

"Can you?" Klaus gave him a meaningful look. "Because if not, I have my own ways of dealing with your brother's persistence, and believe you me, they aren't pleasant."

"I said," Stefan emphasised, stepping closer to Klaus, his gaze almost menacing, "I can handle it."

Klaus regarded him solemnly for a moment, before giving him a curt nod and handing Elena over to him.

"Guard her," he instructed. "Put her in the back of the truck when Rebekah brings it around, and stay with her. When she comes around, she'll look for a familiar face, and I trust you to keep her calm."

Stefan almost lost his temper at that.

"I'm not her babysitter. If she can't behave, we'll make her."

Klaus gave a dry chuckle at that.

"Oh, how things have changed since an hour ago, when you got into suuuch a frenzy over me hitting her. Very well. But I'm entrusting you to protect her all the same. Remember...she's important."

"Noted," Stefan said dryly, before frowning as a sudden thought came to his mind. "What are you doing anyway?"

"Finding the Lockwood boy. As my first successful hybrid, he'll need to come with us..."

"I get wanting to take Elena with us, but you know she won't stay quiet if you bring Tyler with us," Stefan pointed out. "You want an easy life, I'd suggest reducing the cargo to just her. At least you know how to make hybrids now."

Klaus pulled a face.

"I may need the Lockwood boy to get the other werewolves to co-operate."

"Use Elena," Stefan suggested. "She's notorious for getting people wrapped around her finger after all. She managed to tame my brother using just her eyes, you know."

Chuckling dryly, Klaus clapped Stefan on the shoulder, his eyes shining with a newfound energy which hadn't been there at the start of the evening.

"Ripper Stefan is back, and with a vengeance it seems," he announced, smiling broadly. "Fair enough, mate. Bring Elena outside. Rebekah should be back with the truck by now."

Stefan waited until Klaus had walked ahead before lowering his eyes to examine Elena, who remained unconscious inside his arms. Though he felt nothing for her, he held her a little bit tighter than perhaps was necessary, marching out the hospital doors, already aware of the aching gap inside him where his emotions should've been. Had he even a flicker of humanity left, his prominent emotions would've been guilt and horror at how this evening had turned out, but without those feelings weighing him down, all he felt was this sense of relief that he was getting out of Mystic Falls.

He would make sure Elena stayed alive, and ironically Klaus holding her prisoner was perhaps the best fate she could have at the moment. He would ensure nothing happened to her, and best of all, she would be far away from Damon; he just wished Damon would keep far away from her, although the reasons for that desire became an intangible blur, indistinguishable to his own messed up mind. All he knew was that even though he didn't want Elena anymore, he didn't want his brother to have her either. Beyond that, he no longer cared what her fate was.

Stepping outside, he inhaled deeply, watching as Klaus gestured to his sister to drive the truck towards the hospital. On closer inspection, Stefan saw it wasn't a truck she was driving, but a black SUV, and so putting her in the back probably meant he was going to have to have her lying across his lap for the duration of the journey, because somehow he didn't think Klaus would favour her being stored in the boot...and, deep down, neither did he.

Sighing, he held Elena closer to his chest, ignoring the way she seemed to automatically curl against him, wondering why that simply movement seemed to set his heart off again, and threw open one of the back doors of the SUV, sliding her inside first before settling in himself, propping her awkwardly against the side so that her head lolled down slightly past her shoulder.

"Sorry you're stuck like that," Rebekah murmured towards him, sliding out of the driver's seat so that Klaus could take her place. "Guess you're on babysitting duty huh?"

He awarded her a grim smile.

"It's not ideal, but could be worse."

She gave him a confused look.

"I could be in the front with Klaus," he stage whispered, to which she responded with a sarcastic laugh, her eyes shining with inexplicable humour he couldn't reciprocate.

He felt empty, but not like he was missing anything; it felt more like he was aware of what he'd lost, but felt too numb, too detached to care. It was a feeling similar to feeling free, of having all these new perks which came with not having any humanity anymore and yet not knowing what to do with them, or how best to take advantage of them.

He leaned back as Klaus started the engine, and instantly he noticed two things. One, Rebekah was giving him flirty smiles via one of the mirrors, and two...despite the attention from a former love, a love he honestly didn't really care about either way, his eyes felt more at home watching Elena. Her chest rose and fell in even motions, and her eyelashes would occasionally flicker, indicating she was either having a bad dream, or she was in between the realms of sleep and consciousness.

Either way, he didn't - couldn't - react when she stirred for the briefest of moments, her head falling against his chest like it had always belonged there.

Frowning, Stefan focused his attention on the road ahead, feeling himself relax the moment they passed the Mystic Falls sign. They were out of that accursed town and onto (hopefully) bigger and better prospects. He had no plans to stick around with Rebekah and Klaus for very long, but since he'd been instructed to protect Elena, it left him with very little choice but to do so for the moment.

The moment he had chance, however, Stefan knew he would escape Klaus' cruel grasp once and for all, and make a new life for himself, somewhere that wasn't tainted with memories, the good and the bad, and if that meant leaving Elena behind, so be it. There were only so many times his past could cling to him before he shook it off for good.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Klaus spoke from the front, sounding amused for some unexplained reason.

"Wasn't thinking about anything," Stefan returned, electing to return back to staring out of the window. "Let's just get as far away from Mystic Falls as possible. I don't know where my brother is, but chances are he'll find out what's happened soon."

"All speed ahead then," Klaus confirmed, coaxing some more speed out of the SUV.

Stefan didn't respond.

He just let himself slip into a brooding silence, all the while plagued with a dark thirst he would have to quench soon.

.

..

...

Elena felt herself drifting into an uneasy world, one which saw a thousand different memories playing behind her eyes. She saw her parents flicker in and out of view, watched a series of stills involving them and Jeremy play like an old movie in front of her, and heard their voices pierce her mind.

It was a cruel reminder of what had been, and all that had changed since that time.

She eventually broke past it all and opened her eyes, immediately sensing she wasn't in Mystic Falls anymore. There was the noise of nearby traffic that felt unfamiliar, and a rich tapestry of lights reflected off of a nearby window that told her she was in a city somewhere, and that was what broke her out of her dreamlike state, her body bolting upwards, her hands clawing at the air, almost as if she was waiting for someone to grab them and tell her things would be okay.

She'd hoped her vague memory of Klaus being at her hospital bedside had been nothing more than a dream, but it seemed that she'd just been holding onto a delusion. She'd hoped to have ended up in her bed, surrounded by her warm blanket, her concerned friends - Damon included - but all she was surrounded by was a thin bed sheet associated with motels, and an otherwise motionless Stefan, who gave her a brief look, nothing human to be seen in and around his facial expression.

"Stefan," she spoke, her voice hoarse, her heart heavy... and broken. "Where am I?"

"I'm not supposed to tell you in case somehow your friends make contact with you and try and get the same answer out of you," Stefan replied, his voice thick with a distance which somehow broke her even more. "Just know we're more than a few hours away from Mystic Falls, and I'm supposed to watch over you, so don't get any funny ideas."

Elena rubbed her neck out of habit, and then instantly flinched, remembering the sight of Stefan blurring towards her, the feel of his fangs burying themselves into her neck, draining her of blood.

"You bit me," she spat out, a dry sob entering into the mix.

"Klaus ordered me to," he reminded her. "Besides, Elena..." He delivered her name in a sing-song, which had her shuddering with revulsion. "You mix with vampires every day. Why are you surprised each and every time one gets close enough to get a taste?"

She threw the sheets from her side, preparing herself to storm out the room because she was just not in the mood to deal with a belligerent and sarcastic Stefan, but he was in front of her at once, folding his arms, his dark eyes piercing hers.

"You know, you really ought to rest," he commented. "You've lost a fair amount of blood."

He gestured to her arm, and her eyes followed his down to a faint mark on her arm which signalled a needle had been plunged into her skin to retrieve her blood. She shuddered again, sitting back on the bed, wrapping her arms around her skinny frame, deciding she wasn't going to let the terror take her over. To be honest, she'd been waiting for something like this to happen ever since she'd survived Klaus' ritual. Her summer, in between waiting for leads to come through as to the whereabouts of Stefan, had involved lots of moments where she'd felt this almost paralysing sense of fear that Klaus would come plunging back into her life, his eyes filled with fury that she'd survived his ritual. Maybe at the time it had felt irrational to feel that way, but now, she was pretty sure those instincts were what she should've followed.

"Why did he take my blood?" she asked, avoiding Stefan's eyes, refusing to let his cold stare break her heart anymore than it had already.

"Put the pieces together, Elena. He figured out it wasn't you being alive that was causing him a problem with his hybrids. It was the fact he didn't have your blood. That's why he's taken you away from Mystic Falls."

"Because he needs me to create hybrids," she finished, suddenly feeling dizzy.

"Exactly." Stefan stared critically at her. "Klaus told me to make sure you ate and drank before he came back. You want food?"

"Where is he right now?"

"Out finding his werewolf pack of course." Stefan looked amused by her question, though she couldn't for the life of her figure out why. "Do you want anything to eat, Elena?"

"No."

"You know, I could always tell when you were lying," he informed her matter-of-factly.

"Don't do that," she spat, suddenly locking eyes with him. "Don't talk about our history like that, like it means nothing to you. I know what Klaus did to you, but honestly, right now the only thing that's keeping me together is the fact that at least he is far enough away from my friends to not do any more damage than he's already done."

His smile slid from view.  
"Ever the martyr, Elena," he spoke, with an echo of tenderness she would almost have mistaken for his humanity had she not known the truth. "It'll get you killed for real one day."

She flinched again, this time stricken by how casually he referred to the numerous times she'd come close to death before. She wondered whether there was any part of him that knew the way he was acting was wrong; did not having humanity mean not having a conscience, or did it just mean you could stifle it more easily? All these questions and more just kept skipping around in her mind, but she didn't want to ask. What would be the point? The answers wouldn't give her any peace.

"What about you?" Elena returned, turning back towards Stefan. "Are you hungry?"

He laughed.

"I can handle myself around you, if that's what you mean."

"Not what I asked."

He promptly stopped laughing.

"I'm always hungry, Elena. It's who I am. Who I've always been." He turned towards the window, and she sensed he was getting restless, on edge. "But don't worry. I'll divulge myself with a few pretty girls later on."

She couldn't stop herself from flinching again. She hated herself for it, for showing weakness in front of him. Perhaps she should've been used to the casual vulgarity of vampires, but it still continued to shock that they were capable of some horrific things and yet able to talk about it like it was nothing more than a hobby, or casual activity they partook in.

Just then, the door of the motel swung open, revealing Klaus and his sister, and she couldn't help retreating, just a little, overwhelmed by the reality of her present situation.

Klaus clearly didn't miss her reaction; in response, he grinned, his eyes panning from Stefan to her, then back to Stefan. As for his sister, Rebekah, she seemed to be particularly interested in her, although she didn't smile in her direction, and her eyes contained a hint of frostiness which made Elena shiver. She didn't know much about her, but what little she knew made her want to avoid her at all costs.

"Isn't this cosy?" Klaus said, grinning, his eyes landing on hers.

"Did you find your pack?" Stefan asked, folding his arms.

"Took some work, but found them, and turned them," Klaus replied, his grin boasting of a successful night. "Tomorrow we move on, further south. I've earmarked all the places where the werewolf packs are, so we just hit each one in turn, and I've sent some of my new hybrids back to Mystic Falls, as an added measure to keep certain citizens well in check."

Stefan nodded, accepting this, but Elena just simply shook with an anger that came from absolutely nowhere.

"Enjoy the hybrids you have, Klaus, because you won't be getting any more of my blood," she hissed, but instantly regretted what she said when he blurred in front of her, his venomous eyes locking with hers.

"I can easily make you more agreeable, Elena. But since you'll find it's three against one," he gestured grandly around the room to prove his point, "I feel compulsion might not be necessary after all."

She raised her chin defiantly, but deflated when she realised he was right; she was outnumbered, and a humanity-less Stefan was not going to be of any help whatsoever, so she could put that idea out of her mind.

"So, sweetheart, how do you want to do this?" Klaus asked, with a note of audible triumph in his voice. "I've got a nurse on speed-dial - very useful piece of technology that, I've found - who can set everything up whenever and wherever you like."

"Can we not enjoy the city first, Nick?" Rebekah suddenly moaned. "I'm fed up of chasing down werewolves. I want to enjoy the night life." She grinned at Stefan. "How about it, Ripper Boy? Fancy escaping the nest for a few hours?"

Stefan glanced at Klaus, who inclined his head, showing his approval, not that he needed it or anything. He just didn't want to set the hybrid off, although Klaus did seem like he was at his most content, now he knew why his first attempt at making hybrids had failed.

"If Klaus lets me off babysitting duties," here he looked grimly at Elena, "I'd be delighted to escape this wretched place. God knows I'm hungry enough."

"Fantastic." Rebekah clapped her hands together with approval, flashing a set of pearl white teeth in his direction before turning her attention to her brother. "Nick, are you sure you're alright staying in? You could just compel the girl to stay, and it would be just like the 20s again, just the three of us."

Elena couldn't believe how humiliated she felt on top of the exhaustion and fear. Stefan spoke of her like she was an inconvenience. Rebekah regarded her as nothing more than a pet, something which could be trained to obey. As for Klaus, well he probably regarded her as nothing more than a blood bag. She cast dark looks around the room, but kept her hands clenched by her sides, feeling utterly powerless in the shadow of two (and a half) villains.

"No, as much as I would love to celebrate the night's success, I can't," Klaus spoke. "I'll watch over Elena." Here he offered her a sly grin. "Keep her safe."

It was at this point Stefan shifted uncomfortably. His instructions had been to protect Elena and to keep her from any danger. Although she wasn't in any direct danger from Klaus, he still couldn't deny the fact he didn't like leaving her with him, although that lay more towards the fact that despite Klaus' clear attempts at reigniting the bond they had in the 20s he still hated the man, rather than any remnants of the love he'd felt for her.

Still, he shrugged it off, deciding his thirst took precedence over Elena for this moment, and elected to leave before her gaze sought his. She didn't affect him like she used to, but he was still wary of the fact that she seemed to be drawn to helping lost causes like himself into getting back on their feet, and he didn't want that anymore.

"You don't know what you're missing, Nick," Rebekah hooted, as she and Stefan strode out of the room.

Elena remained frozen to the spot for the moment, unable to breathe because mingled fear and loathing ran through her veins, both driven into life by the fact she was stuck in the same room as Jenna's killer, and that still hurt like a violent bruise against her skin, and time had done nothing to heal that wound whatsoever.

Silence fell between them, and she refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing she was afraid, so she lined her eyes with his, her stomach curdling at the look of deep satisfaction resting on his face, like the proverbial cat that got the cream. He was smug, self-centered, and dangerous, and she knew she couldn't piss him off, because regardless of her new status as Doppelganger Blood Bank, she knew he wasn't above hitting her to get her to be quiet, as earlier this evening had proven.

"You can sit down you know," Klaus offered, after a suitable interval. "I won't bite." He grinned. "I'm not Stefan, you know."

"No, you're not. You're worse," she muttered through gritted teeth. "You get what you want, no matter what the cost. At least Stefan – "

She choked on her response, knowing any defense she could muster up on Stefan's behalf no longer applied. He was gone; the loss hit her hard, and it seemed to be so much worse than him actually dying, because she could actually see the loss in front of her, and it would never stop haunting her. She'd spent hours poring over maps, phoning up Liz Forbes' office, crying into her pillow, all to save a boy who now existed only in her memories. It was heartbreaking, and it hurt like hell, but she had to survive now for herself, for the friends she'd left back home.

There was no more saving Stefan. She'd yet to see compulsion like that being broken in a hurry, so she would have to resign herself to the inevitable that even her best efforts had failed entirely.

"Stefan doesn't seem to care much about you anymore, so I'd get any ideas about him helping you out of your mind," Klaus remarked.

She averted her eyes before he could spot the flash of vulnerability there.

"I know what you did to him. Whatever he does – whoever he becomes – is on you. You're the one I'll blame, not him," she bit out, choosing, despite herself, to sit down on the bed, instinctively folding her arms, and tucking away her hair, as if that could be used as a weapon against her somehow.

"As I said before, love, I invited him to the party, yet he's the one dancing on the tables." Klaus gave a sigh. "He was much more fun in the 20s, I'll grant you, but I'll give him time. I've sent him out with the one person who's bound to bring the fun side out of him again." He smiled a sickening grin that revolted her from head to toe. "I do trust you know Rebekah's history with Stefan? Theirs was a love story to rival yours, I should imagine."

Elena tried to drown out his horrid words, but they pierced her brain all the same. It shouldn't have really been such a blow to imagine Stefan having other lovers between Katherine and herself, but to have that history re-enacted before her eyes was more than just unpleasant.

"Now, love," Klaus changed the subject, a horrible leer plastered on his face, "We should get a few rules out there, just so there's absolutely no confusion."

She turned her head automatically, sending a grimace his way, but no objection did she raise at the list of totalitarian dictator-style rules he was sure to send her way. She just hadn't the energy to protest, and that wasn't due to her giving up; she'd tried that way before, and no one had let her see that plan through to the end, so from now on she was trying it a different way, the way which involved being submissive until things settled and then making a dash for it when the time was right.

"Rule number one is a given of course, but I'd rather put it out there all the same." Klaus inched closer towards her, his eyes intense as they locked with hers. "You will not attempt to establish contact with anybody back home. You will not escape. You will be co-operative, otherwise it won't be you that suffers. It'll be your friends back home. I have hybrids posted in the most obscure of places around your town, so if your friends make one move I don't like, I'll know about it, and I won't hesitate to give the order for them to have themselves a mass slaughter."

Elena stared at him, hateful of the fact she could feel that familiar sense of her free will being stripped away. He was compelling her, yet arrogantly dressing it up like he was still giving her a choice whether or not to obey said rules.

"Now that the un-pleasantries are out of the way," Klaus finished, still grinning, "how about some room service?"

...

..

.

Stefan had almost forgotten what it was like in the clubs. The atmosphere was just a concoction of sweaty, writhing bodies all pressed up together, the smell of alcohol contingent to the scene, and it made him nostalgic for the days when dancing used to be all about the chemistry between two people, whereas now all there seemed to be was this endless cycle of gyrating pairs, most of them having only met that very evening, with lust pumping out of every orifice imaginable, as opposed to simple curiosity and intrigue.

That was what had drawn him to Rebekah. Her coy smile, and the way she swarmed around the dance floor like she owned it, had instantly won him over, and her dismissive attitude towards him had done nothing but fuel that particular fire. She'd dressed to impress, naturally, but at the same time had maintained that cool look in her eyes that suggested she was not built to please any man, only herself.

Now, of course, while many things had changed about Rebekah, he could still see remnants of that girl even as she perused the scene before her with mingled disgust and horror.

"This is what the dance scene looks like now?" she yelled above the blaring music. "I think my coffin has more class than all of these people combined."

He had to smile at that; it was the sort of joke Caroline might've made.

"We don't have to be here, we can find somewhere else," he called.

"No." She wrinkled her nose with disgust. "As much as I hate this place, it does have its advantages. Satisfying our hunger, for example, will be a piece of cake. None of these morons look as if they'll remember the next hour, let alone the rest of the night."

Almost in sync, they moved in and out of the crowd, selecting victims at random. Rebekah was very much like Damon, in the sense she wouldn't drain any of the victims, only taking enough to satisfy her cravings.

Stefan was much less concerned about leaving survivors. He lured victim after victim outside, draining them dry before disposing their bodies nearby. The cravings subsided, and then afterwards he ended up back inside the club, watching as Rebekah gyrated up against a dark haired man with lust filled eyes, who just couldn't believe his luck at acquiring a beautiful dance partner.

He couldn't help remembering the various dances he and Elena had been to, how even though they've been clichéd and typically "high-school", they were everything a dance should've been – appropriate to the themes they were representing, almost classy, and almost enjoyable, but that was a secret he would take with him to the grave.

It hadn't been so much about the dancing anyway, so much as seeing Elena's face light up every time he'd caved in and showed her some moves that obviously had no relevance in the real world anymore.

"Is it just me," he enquired dryly, once he and Rebekah had stepped out for some fresh air, "or is this just not as fun as it used to be?"

"Times have changed, Stefan," she remarked, "and I didn't need to be in a coffin for ninety years to know _that_." She eyed him curiously. "You know, Nick didn't say what went down between you in that school. It is curious. How one moment you're taking on _me_, of all people, to save the girl you love, and then the next you're helping us take her away from everyone she loves and cares about?" Her eyes clouded over with something close to intrigue. "What did my brother do to you?"

"Why do you care? You're on his side."

"I'm his sister. By definition, I kind of have to be on his side. He's all I have." She pursed her lips. "But that doesn't mean he's right all the time you know. Truth be told, I'm still pissed at him for daggering me and stripping your memories of me, but I still love him."

Stefan really didn't want to be having this conversation with her. The memories Klaus had given back to him had, for a moment, meant something to him again. Seeing that beautiful smile, those hopeful eyes that glimmered with mischief and cunning, had stirred some age old feeling inside him, but of course that had been doused by Klaus stripping him off his humanity, so in actual fact, this entire moment with Rebekah wasn't a moment at all, just a way to curb his cravings.

But he couldn't deny the fact he was surprised that she could both be on Klaus' side, and yet still see right through his crocodile smile to know there was something else going on. Then again, Klaus himself had told him that her instincts were flawless, borderline supernatural, so he had to suppose she was smarter than he gave her credit for.

"So, are you going to tell me what my brother did?" Rebekah demanded, tilting her head to one side, her gaze speculative. "You were never a good liar, Stefan, so just choose your answer carefully."

He pinched the ridge of his nose, mentally exhausted by the day's events. He could've ignored her, let her throw a tantrum at his expense, but truthfully he couldn't think of a single damn reason why she shouldn't know about her brother's tricks. She wouldn't be likely to help him get his humanity back – not that he wanted it back anyway – so the only real argument he could muster in favour of keeping his mouth shut was that it was a waste of breath to complain about something only Klaus could fix.

"He took away my humanity. You happy?" he barked, turning away, overcome with irritation.

Well, actually, it wasn't irritation, since irritation was an emotion, and his were clearly taking a long holiday at the moment. He just felt more inclined to ignore her, even though truthfully he'd enjoyed not being in the same room as Klaus for a while.

"That was one of Niklaus' favourite tricks," Rebekah murmured from behind him. "He finds it easier to control you if your emotions aren't at play."

The bitter quality to her tone had him intrigued; he turned back around, giving her a half smile.

"You speak like you know what I'm going through," he said.

"I can't be compelled, if that's what you're thinking, so no, I don't know," Rebekah said, smiling wryly. "But I've been punished every time I've let myself care about someone. Nik daggered me because I chose you over him, and believe me, that isn't the first time he's tried to take away my happiness. So even though I can feel anytime I choose to, it's better in the long run not to."

"Why?"

"Why do you think? Memories are painful, the good and the bad. If I let myself dwell on the time we spent together, it hurts." She shrugged. "I spare myself the pain every day of knowing if I'd just let you go in that moment, I could've found you again in the future."

"Wouldn't have mattered, Rebekah. He compelled me to forget."

"True." She grinned, sidling up to him. "But I would've enjoyed the chase all over again." She lost her grin as a sudden thought crept up on her. "And we wouldn't be saddled with that miserable excuse of a human being you call your ex-girlfriend."

For some reason, he wanted to correct her at that point, tell her that she was still his girlfriend, not his ex, but he remembered the words he'd yelled at her outside Gloria's bar, the look of devastation and hopelessness in her eyes as he'd told her they were done. Although that memory didn't have the same affect on him now as it had the days afterwards, it still made him realise that he and Elena were officially no longer a couple, and that had a strange feel to it, like the ghost of an emotion he could no longer see or feel.

But he shook that off, choosing to remain impassive as he surveyed their surroundings.

"If you're thinking of heading back, Stefan, I'd firmly suggest otherwise," Rebekah stated coyly. "I haven't had you to myself like this in over ninety years, and I'm damned if I'm gonna let your humanity-less state rain on my parade."

Stefan had to chuckle dryly at that.

"I may not be with Elena anymore, but that does not make me yours," he said coldly. "You understand?"

Rebekah smiled coldly.

"I do, and it's nice that Ripper Stefan makes a return. The Stefan I remember wasn't just all about the blood. He had quite the mouth on him too." She blew him a kiss as she walked by. "Let me know if you want to reignite that spark between us. We have nothing but time on our hands."

He pushed his lips into a flat line, refusing to comment, but reluctantly gave a sigh and followed after her.

* * *

A/n: Okay, so Stefan is going to be an ass for pretty much most of this story. There will be very few fluffy moments between him and Elena, at least for the foreseeable future. There will be other Originals joining the story as and when I see fit to include them, but other than that, this is strictly about the action for the moment, although this will all centre around Elena and Stefan. Hope you enjoy and leave a review if you want me to keep writing.


	2. A Fool I Ever Was

Through Thick And Thin

...

..

.

Summary: Set during 3x05. Klaus takes Elena away from Mystic Falls, and Stefan tags along, humanity-less, and with strict instructions to guard her. But is his humanity really beyond retrieving? And can a broken and mentally exhausted Elena coax him back from the edge? Stelena, with a healthy dose of Stebekah to boot, and also a lot of action from the Originals.

.

..

...

Chapter 2

A Fool I Ever Was

.

..

...

She hadn't intended on sleeping at all. Her exhaustion was only the mental kind, and even then she could keep it at bay while she focused on other matters. Klaus, however, had had other ideas, insisting she needed to be well rested, and when she'd silently refused, he'd risen up, intending, by the look in his eyes, to compel her to sleep, so she'd given up that little battle.

Elena woke up in the early hours of the morning – it felt like it was around six, but without her phone she couldn't be sure – and felt herself stiffen the moment her eyes opened. It was that god-awful moment of realisation which had woken her; that moment of realisation that the nightmare you'd thought you'd rid yourself of was not only real, but the only world you had left to cling to.

Her eyes tried to pierce the darkness, and she tried to figure out whether anyone else was here, but because she hadn't the senses to do so, she was left trying to strain her eyes and ears. Nobody made a sound, not even a breath, and so cautiously she threw back the covers, and rose silently to her feet, using her hands to guide her way around the room. It should've been a sign there and then that it was all too easy finding her way to the door; her life was so full of drama and trouble, it was out of character for her to suddenly trust that escape would be an option, and it also struck her the moment she opened the door and tried to take a step out that she'd forgotten about the compulsion, because she couldn't take a damn step outside the door.

Suddenly, a pair of hands grabbed her and whirled her back around, forcing her back onto the bed. Left slightly breathless by this, she tried to determine who had assaulted her in this way, but it was hard to tell. All she could tell was the hands that had gripped her were firm, unrelenting, and conveying dominance that she couldn't fight.

"Where do you think you're going?" came the amused, but strangely hoarse, voice of Stefan.

_Oh._

You would've thought after spending countless hours being caressed by those hands, Elena would've recognised them, even in the dark; then again, she'd never had the misfortune of experiencing violence at the hands of him until yesterday.

"I was trying something," she muttered, "that didn't end up working."

Stefan flicked on the lights, and it was then she saw what the night had done to him. Traces of blood marked his chin; the deep hunger in his eyes appeared satiated, yet he looked far from stable; there was a certain indistinguishable fragrance that perfumed the air around him, but it wasn't pleasant at all. It was like what she'd imagined death to smell like, and she couldn't help flinching at the sight.

It was everything she'd never wanted for Stefan, everything she'd tried to help him avoid, epitomised in one look.

"Klaus compelled you to stay," Stefan said matter-of-factly, and despite the fact it wasn't a question, she answered him anyway.

"Yes. I don't have my necklace anymore, thanks to Katherine, so I guess I'm just a target for compulsion practice," she snapped, scowling.

Stefan stared at her for the briefest of moments, as if deciding something, and then he shrugged and walked past her into the bathroom, presumably to clean himself up.

"Where's Klaus anyway?" he asked, sounding decidedly uninterested.

"I don't know. I fell asleep, and when I woke up, I realised he wasn't there." She gave him a cold stare. "Where's Rebekah?"

"Out still." Stefan had picked up on the jealous note in her voice. "What's it to you, anyway?"

"You smell like sweat and alcohol." She paused. "You went to a club."

"And?"

"You hate dancing," she pointed out.

"And?"

She frowned, trying to hide the sadness in her eyes.

"Never mind."

He seemed to give her a searching look, and for a moment, she could've sworn he'd picked out the sadness and was trying to find a way to deal with it, but seconds passed, and the sound of running water drowned out the sound of her uneven breathing. Somewhere beyond the four walls she was trapped between, a city teemed with life that had never before seemed so far away to her.

Elena felt like she was trapped in a snow globe, forced to live in a surreal world, the outside world just fingertips away. It was suffocating, humiliating, but she'd survived worse, hadn't she?

Rebekah swarmed in not long after Stefan, her hair, usually a vibrant blonde, powdered with traces of red that immediately had Elena catching her breath. She ignored Elena, and strode up to Stefan, smiling at him.

"Move, Ripper Boy - I need to wash the blood from my hair."

"Dare I ask?"

"My last victim was a little...feisty," she confessed, tossing back her head, looking faintly proud of herself. "Nothing I couldn't handle though."

Elena watched the banter between Stefan and Rebekah, something close to jealousy boiling inside her. Klaus' words came back to haunt her, and she felt something akin to watching something so beautiful and fragile fall to the ground, gravity bringing it sharply to earth, shattering it into something irrevocably ugly and broken.

She released a faint choking sound, and drew her knees to her chest.

She did not need this right now; she did not need a replay of Stefan's history – particularly _that _part of his history – flashing in front of her. He might not give a damn about her anymore, and he might not even be aware of how much he was hurting her just by being the way he was – although she would grant him the fact this all came down to Klaus – but Rebekah, somehow, knew the situation, because she flashed her the smallest of smug smiles as she gave Stefan a light push out of the bathroom, her hand lingering a little too long along his lower back.

"Ignore Rebekah," Stefan said, noticing her look of pain. "It's what I do."

"And yet you go dancing with her like it's your favourite thing to do," she retorted.

He rolled his eyes.

"Grow up, Elena. It wasn't about the dancing – it was about the blood. Clubs are ridiculously accessibly to vampires. Alcohol numbs people's senses, makes them more vulnerable. C'mon, this is vampirism one-oh-one."

She shook her head, unsure which emotion raged hardest in her system: anger that he talked about this so lightly to her, knowing how she felt about it all, or resignation at the fact that she didn't own him, couldn't change him, and unless Klaus decided to be magnanimous (unlikely) and give him back his freedom, she was going to have to put up with this new Stefan.

"Did you kill anyone?" she questioned, boring her doe eyes into his.

He didn't flinch at the question, which confirmed her worst fears.

Dipping her head downwards, Elena fell into a brooding silence which he did nothing towards breaking it.

Stefan, meanwhile, suddenly frowned, retrieving his phone from his pocket, rolling his eyes at whatever it was that had caught his attention.

"Damon wants my head on a plate it seems," he muttered, and Elena briefly looked up at the mention of the other Salvatore, careful not to show too much interest. "He's figured out I'm responsible for helping get you out of town." His eyes landed on hers. "I might have to disappear for a bit, try and get him off our tracks."

"Why? To help _Klaus_?" She was close to tears. "Stefan, for God's sake, even you can see why this isn't right, can't you? I refuse to be a blood bag for the rest of my life."

Her emotional pleas fell on deaf ears.

"Right now, keeping Klaus happy is what's best for both us," he informed her. "I don't particularly care about his hybrid agenda, but until I get my freedom back, I'm stuck doing whatever it is he wants me to do, and he wants me to get Damon off our backs."

"You killed Andie to achieve that same goal last time," she whispered. "Who else is going to have to die to get your message across, Stefan?"

"There's nobody Damon cares enough about for me to use that same tactic, Elena, so don't worry." Stefan actually smiled grimly. "You're here, and you're kind of Klaus' best asset, so using you is out of the question."

"Yes, because God forbid it's to do with the fact that I'm a _person_, not human bait," she sneered.

"I won't harm anyone, if it helps," he eventually said, exasperated. "But you have to see, surely, that Damon following us will only end in Klaus ripping out his heart. I'm _saving _him, Elena!"

Elena stared at him, uncertain how to react to that.

Rebekah suddenly poked her head out of the bathroom door, a towel wrapped around her head, irritation visible in every line along her face.

"Will you two please be _quiet_?" she complained, directing this more to Elena than to Stefan. "If I'd wanted a soap opera ruining me-time, I would've compelled the entire cast of _Days of Our Lives_ to be here."

She slammed the bathroom door shut.

Elena glared daggers at the door in response, having made up her mind once and for all that it was now definitely not just a case of jealousy at Rebekah and Stefan's weird friendship that was tearing at her heart like little embedded hooks.

She genuinely just loathed the blonde Original with her entire being.

...

..

.

He almost found it amusing, Elena's jealousy.

Surely there had to have been an ounce of sense inside that girl's head? If he wasn't in love with her, what made her believe there was anything going on between himself and Rebekah?

To be honest, the tiniest part of him had almost been attracted to Rebekah; watching her gyrate expertly against various men last night, only to use their lust against them, poising her lips against theirs for the briefest of moments, in a truly terrifying move of seduction, before attacking their necks, had honestly brought out a speck of admiration from his otherwise emotionless body. He'd admired her recklessness, the way she'd scraped every last drop of blood from the wound her fangs had made with her finger, letting her tongue slather all over it to get every bit of sustenance she could.

There was a ripper in her, he was sure, but she could contain it far better than he ever could.

Klaus burst in the room before he could dwell on that any further, and he didn't miss the fact that Elena still flinched every time Klaus came into view. Following Klaus came a dazed looking blonde haired woman, sporting a nurse's outfit, and Stefan immediately put two and two together, quickly enough to realise he was better not being around for this particular moment.

"Morning all," Klaus greeted, casting a glance around the room. "And my dear sister is...?"

"In the shower!" yelled the blonde Original from the bathroom. "Only enter if you desire to meet an excruciating end!"

Klaus had to chuckle at that.

"My sister, ladies and gentlemen," he announced, with just a hint of irony. His eyes fell on Elena, who had swapped her terrified expression with a look of weary resignation. "Shall we get on with this then, love?"

"I'm gonna...hit the bar," Stefan offered, his eyes falling briefly on Elena, but she was stubbornly avoiding looking at him; the look of grim determination on her face made it perfectly clear that if she was going to suffer, she would suffer alone, and she wouldn't expect any help whatsoever, which suited him just fine.

She may have been a martyr, but at least she was a consistent one.

"It is nearly nine o'clock, mate." Klaus raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure you want to be hitting the booze that early?"

Stefan didn't miss the way Elena's eyebrows skyrocketed to her hairline at the mention of the time. Clearly, she'd not been expecting the time to have been that late, and it was clear why; Klaus had shrouded the place in darkness, shutting the curtains, and blocking out every bit of light imaginable, presumably to create an aura of control and fear, which, he seemed to recall, had been his trick once upon a time.

In fact, his guilt-free conscience seemed to recall he'd played the same trick with Andie Starr, Damon's "girlfriend" – and he used that word loosely, because he'd never been convinced Damon had felt anything but mild affection for her, if that – shrouding her world in darkness for a split second, before turning one of the brightest lights in the station on, so bright it almost blinded her, before making his grand appearance.

He could relate to Klaus in that respect – they enjoyed theatrics, relishing the whole architecture of the hunt, as opposed to just the hunt itself.

Trouble was, he just didn't want to relate to Klaus. He didn't want to find parallels between their sordid lives. He wasn't going to get all enraged because they were there all the same, but finding any connection between himself and Klaus was like finding a connection between himself and the devil, although he wouldn't have been surprised if Klaus was just another incarnation of that particular role.

"Despite your orders to protect her, me being around her blood isn't going to help matters for anyone," he pointed out. "You've clearly compelled her to behave herself anyway, so I'd rather not overcrowd the room while you do..." he gestured aimlessly, "...that."

"Fair enough, mate." Klaus suddenly narrowed his eyes. "But be back within an hour. I want to be heading off soon."

Stefan nodded, giving Elena a parting glance before heading out the door. His sensitive hearing could already pick up the sound of her hissing through her teeth, which signalled the needle had already been plunged through her skin, so he quickened his pace, waiting until he'd reached outside before he exhaled.

Luckily, the ringing of his phone gave him a momentary distraction.

"Hello, brother," he answered coolly, already knowing who was going to be on the other end."

_"Get your ass back into Mystic Falls, before I find you and drag you home myself!"_

"How are things?" Stefan asked, mildly enjoying himself.

Damon knew how to play him at his own game though.

_"Oh, fine. Weather's not been too bad, and Barbie seems to have become mildly tolerable. Now, onto pressing matters... like you selling out your own girlfriend to a sociopathic hybrid so she can be a blood bag for the rest of her life!"_

"You heard about that, huh?"

_"Small town, Stefan. People talk." _Damon's tone changed, so he sounded more worried than furious. _"How is she?"_

"She's alive, if that's what you're asking."

_"Why did I not simply stake you when I had the chance? You're such a pain in the ass, Stefan." _He could almost hear the sound of his older brother putting two and two together. _"Speaking of which, as much of an ass as you were when you killed my girlfriend, you still seemed to have enough humanity to save my life, and for someone pretending not to care, you still wanted me to make sure Elena stayed hidden from Klaus."_

"Your point being?"

_"What changed, brother?"_

"Nothing changed, Damon. I just happened to know staying on the right side of Klaus is the best possible move I can make right now."

His older brother gave a low growl.

_"I will find you," _he vowed, "_and I will take Elena home. This isn't safe for her!"_

"Did you ever consider the fact she's safer under my protection than yours?" Stefan shot at him. "I mean, you left town after one fight, nowhere to be seen, and look what happens in your absence! Klaus shows up, causes havoc, and then takes what he wants. Don't blame me for tagging along with him; blame yourself for not being there to stop him!"

_"You're a dick, you know that right?"_

"I'm right, though," Stefan pointed out. "You can't come after us."

_"Watch me."_

"He has hybrids in town. If you make a move Klaus doesn't like, he'll kill everyone Elena cares about."

_"Collateral damage. It'll be worth it if I get to wipe that self-satisfied look I'm sure you're wearing right now off your face."_

"If Elena could hear you know, I'm sure she'd be swooning," Stefan mocked. "What _does _she see in you?"

_"How about maybe the fact that despite the fact I had every reason to take advantage of your absence to move in on her, I didn't? Or because for every time she had to go to bed with a sad look on her face, I was there for her? Or maybe it's just because she said your name so often in her sleep, I made sure to take extra lengths to try and find you, even when I knew it was unlikely that you'd ever come home the way she remembered?" _

Stefan fell silent at that, letting those words wash over him.

"She shouldn't have held on to me then," he said harshly. "She should've let me go."

_"Why, because that's the Elena Gilbert we know and love, brother? Oh no. When she loves, she loves with her entire heart." _He could hear the physical pain it took for Damon to utter those words, as well as the next ones. _"You're dismissing what I would kill to have, and though there must be some reason behind it, I am inclined to inform you that right now I have never been fonder of the idea of mounting your head against my bedroom wall than I am right at this moment." _

"Goodbye, Damon."

Stefan hung up, staring at the phone in his hand, wondering why his brother just refused to make things easy for him. It'd been that way since he could remember. When he'd begged Damon not to antagonise their father, Damon had never listened to him, goading and baiting the old man to see how far he could test his patience.

Only once had he pushed him far enough to receive a strike, and Stefan had witnessed it, and that had been enough to estrange Damon and Giuseppe Salvatore forever.

It was also the first and last time Stefan had ever seen his brother cry.

It was funny, but contemplating those memories now, in relation to the fact that his brother was a stubborn, impulsive, reckless moron, seemed to stir something inside him. It wasn't quite his humanity – no, that was behind locked doors, and Klaus had the key – but it was almost...wistfulness, at how things should've been.

After Katherine, he and Damon had spent the better part of the one hundred and fifty years alternating between being drawn to each other, and using the past as a means of justifying keeping as much distance between them as was humanly possible. They were the yin to each other's yang; polar opposites in everything but intent, because for a while they'd shared the goal of keeping Mystic Falls safe. Well, keeping Elena safe more to the point, but they'd almost been on the same side.

Now the scales had been tipped, Stefan could certainly see why Damon's way of life was intoxicating. No worries, no cares, and none of that horrible guilt that came after each kill.

He breathed the fresh air, took a glance around him, and decided to indulge himself with one more kill before he hit the road.

Brooding was the old Stefan's habit, not the Ripper's, and the only way he was going to shake off that identity was by plunging right back into the past to forge himself a new future. An Elena-less, Damon-less, Klaus-less free future.

God only knew he needed the freedom.

.

..

...

She shuddered when the needle was taken out of her. Groggy, and barely together – emotionally, and physically – she watched as Klaus took the two blood bags filled with unsuppressed satisfaction, and tucked it into a readymade unit specifically catered, it seemed, for transporting blood around.

She'd done this twice now, once without her really knowing what was going on, and already she was sick of it. Thanks to Klaus' compulsion, she'd had to play good girl while the compelled nurse had drawn out her blood, and so all she could really do was convey her anger with her eyes, and even then Klaus hadn't even the decency to meet them. He'd merely started collecting his things together, treating her as if she wasn't there at all.

"Where's Stefan?" Rebekah asked, stepping out of the bathroom in what was, quite frankly, a stunning outfit.

The female Original wore a black top that shimmied down her body, stopping short of her hips. It was complimented with some dark leggings, black heels, and a short dark jacket. Her hair fell down her in one gushing stream of gold, and for the first time, Elena could see what had drawn Stefan to her.

She was insanely beautiful.

And Elena felt part of her heart chip away at the thought of trying to compete with her for a man who no longer seemed to have a shred of affection in his body, for her at least.

"Out," Klaus replied, eyeing his sister critically.

"Glad you're so specific," Rebekah fired at him, rolling her eyes. "You got what you needed?"

"All two bags of it," Klaus replied, actually having the audacity to wink at Elena. "I've ordered some room service for our guest." Again, he directed a wink in Elena's direction. "Once she's finished up, we'll hit the road."

"Super." Rebekah flopped on the bed, sighing dramatically. "I don't mean to be a buzz kill, but how long are you planning on carting Elena around for?"

"Until I've made sure every last werewolf owes their allegiance to me."

"I see." Rebekah gave him a hard look. "And then what?"

Elena didn't need to be a genius, nor a mind reader, to understand what Rebekah was implying here with her questions.

Even with her magical blood, she had an expiry date. The question was when the time came to it, would it be Klaus who did the deed, or would he add insult to injury and make Stefan do it?

Klaus merely smiled in response to Rebekah's question, deliberately saying nothing about his future plans, but she knew perfectly well what deeper meaning lay beyond that smile.

There was a knock on the door, and a shy looking teenager, carrying a tray, entered, his eyes widening at the sight of Elena.

"You ordered breakfast?" he ventured, clearly intimidated by Klaus, and who could've blamed him?

"For her," Klaus said, gesturing lazily in Elena's direction.

The poor lad walked further inside, handing the tray to Elena, who gave him a warm smile that seemed to thaw out a little of his fear. As he turned to leave, however, Klaus shut the door, a look of hunger rooted in his eyes.

"No," she breathed, shaking her head vehemently, instinctively knowing what was about to happen.

But even when she closed her eyes, she could still hear the horrible yelps, the clashing of teeth against flesh, and, somehow, could see a river of blood flowing from behind her eyes. When she opened them up, her worst fears had been realised; he was dead, and Klaus and Rebekah both looked satiated in their hunger.

"What's the matter, Elena?" taunted Rebekah, noting how white she looked. "Not used to seeing true vampires at their very nature? Hardly surprising, given how much Stefan has held himself back to be with you."

Elena bunched her hands into fists, glaring up at her, every response dying on her tongue because they seemed so stupid.

"Enough, Rebekah," Klaus lazily intervened. "Dispose of the body, would you?"

Rebekah inclined her head, tossing the lifeless body over her shoulders in an effortless motion, grinning at Elena as she passed her by to get to the door.

"Eat up, love," Klaus chided, motioning to the tray in front of her, which seemed to contain toast, butter, soft rolls and a plate of bacon and eggs. "Gotta keep your strength up."

She knew it was a stupid move, reckless and dangerous, but she made it all the same.

With a calculating look in her eye, she took one bite out of one of the rolls, held the plate with the bacon and eggs up with one hand, and without even hesitating, threw it in Klaus' direction.

"I'm not hungry," she snarled, folding her arms, glancing defiantly in the opposite direction.

She didn't see the effects of what that little stunt had done, but all she became aware of was the sensation of sharp nails digging into her skin, and as she looked back around, dark eyes pierced her own, and she felt something strike her hard, sending her flying backwards. She laid there for a moment, faintly horrified, a wave of humiliation flooding her consciousness. A deep blush burned her cheeks, and her breathing came out in uneven gasps, and it took her a moment to recall what had just happened.

Then she sat up, watching as Klaus circled her, his eyes flashing with danger, and though she knew her efforts in defying him had gone unsuccessful – her eyes caught the sight of her breakfast sprawled across the floor, the broken crockery sprayed out like ripples – he wasn't going to let her get away with it.

"And we were getting along so well," Klaus sighed, and then swooped in, a sharp scream escaping her lips before he could stop it.

.

..

...

He enjoyed the fresh air, the stiff breeze. It calmed him down, kept the ripper in him at bay; although he enjoyed being the ripper, he needed at least a degree of self-control. As Stefan walked along the streets of an unfamiliar city, he took in the sights, the intoxicating scents, and circled back on himself, returning to the hotel where Klaus was coming out, an unconscious Elena draped across his shoulders.

Perplexed wasn't even the word.

What could've possibly happened in the short time he was gone to make Klaus treat Elena like she was luggage?

"Ah, you're back," Rebekah purred from behind him.

He whipped around, taking only a second to look her up and down.

"Needed some air," he explained.

She nodded, accepting this explanation.

"You missed all the fun," she said, pouting. "And I did too. Elena threw a tantrum, and my brother sorted her out. Quite the temper she has. And here I thought she was going to be as dull as a brick."

"Here, mate," Klaus called, dumping Elena in Stefan's arms for the second time in two days. "Either you make her behave, or I'll take away her free will altogether. I've only held back doing so because I thought she was smarter than that to antagonise me."

"You did kill her aunt, and sacrifice her, Klaus," Stefan replied mildly. "I think if you're not going to resort to compulsion to keep her quiet, you're pretty much chasing a pipe dream there, thinking she might possibly keep quiet."

"Well, this wouldn't have happened if you hadn't waltzed out and went your merry way," Klaus all but snarled at him, clearly in a bad mood. "Maybe I should get my hybrids to kill one of her friends – have them send a message that way."

Stefan wasn't going to intervene while Klaus was clearly ranting, but on some level, he felt oddly...proud of Elena. Pride wasn't the right word to use, as he still felt indifferent to her presence, but anyone that raised any kind of trouble for Klaus had to be admired, so he felt obligated to helping her.

"You do that, Klaus, and you'll find it'll have the opposite effect," he warned, struggling with himself for a moment before adding, "Let me talk to her. I can get her to behave."

"Can you?" Klaus raised an eyebrow. "I question the validity of that statement given the fact she knows your humanity switch is off, and she has nobody left to fight in her corner."

"If you don't trust my word at least trust the fact that, when it comes to Elena, I will always know what I'm talking about. I know her like the back of my hand; all her likes and dislikes, her habits, her tactics in dealing with vampires, her strengths and weaknesses."

Stefan almost became lost behind his own words. He made a list of everything he knew about Elena, from the way she tucked her hand close to her chest before falling asleep at night, to what topics to avoid if he didn't want to see her doe eyes swim with tears. He knew her like she was a religion; knew the rules to keeping her happy, knew quotes she would repeat without really knowing she'd said them before, knew her best and worst memories, and knew when to best leave her alone.

In short, it felt like he was at war with himself; part of him loathed how much he knew about her. It was all too much; it was like his head was crammed with useless trivia he would never be able to shake. All of a sudden, he was conjuring up images of long nights walking under the stars, of stroking back chestnut brown hair from a sleeping face, of wiping away tears from soft cheeks before enveloping his arms around her.

They were memories he couldn't care less about, if he was honest, and yet they were there all the same, reminding about a time when he had cared, and it had felt glorious to do so.

"I know how to get through to her," he concluded, and he was almost sure Klaus had seen through his charade of pretending he was okay with seeing that god-awful bruise along her face.

He didn't need to have emotions, or his humanity, to know that nothing was right about that at all.

"Fine," Klaus remarked dismissively. "But if she steps out of line one more time, I will compel her to obey my every order, and that might just include going back home to stake your brother right in the heart."

Stefan stared after Klaus, almost forgetting Elena was still in his arms.

He sighed.

This was becoming a habit - her ending up in his arms.

She was strong, he would give her that. But Klaus had a grudge against her entire bloodline, and he wasn't entirely sure Klaus, who had a bit more restraint than he'd shown towards her, hadn't just been waiting for an excuse to lash out at the face which had haunted him throughout history.

Honestly, he was surprised she'd lasted this long in Klaus' company, regardless of the fact her blood was now the most important asset to Klaus right now. She was living proof of Stefan's betrayal, the doppelganger of a woman who'd defied Klaus in every way possible, and to top it all off, she was _vulnerable. _

_Human. _

Stefan wasn't sure how long he could protect her, and, just as importantly, what would happen once Klaus had all the hybrids he could ever want, and the realisation that she might just have an expiry date did something to him that he couldn't quite explain.

All he knew was that indifference was fighting hard against a rush of something that lay on the other side of the glass wall, and both sides had just enough strength to level out, but the fact of the matter still lay in the fact that the longer he spent around Elena, the more he wanted to make sure she stayed alive as long as possible.

He couldn't understand it at all.

He didn't particularly want to either.

* * *

A/n: We are seeing a little bit of a break in Stefan's character here, but as long as Klaus owns his free will, he's pretty much stuck doing whatever the hybrid tells him. As the story progresses, we will see some darker stuff, nothing graphic, and Stefan will lose himself more and more, but for now, let's just enjoy the near enough fluffy Stelena we've got for now. Thanks for reviewing!


	3. Up In The Air

Through Thick And Thin

...

..

.

Summary: Set during 3x05. Klaus takes Elena away from Mystic Falls, and Stefan tags along, humanity-less, and with strict instructions to guard her. But is his humanity really beyond retrieving? And can a broken and mentally exhausted Elena coax him back from the edge? Stelena, with a healthy dose of Stebekah to boot, and also a lot of action from the Originals.

.

..

...

Chapter 3

Up In The Air

.

..

...

Stefan kept watch as Klaus drove on, with almost reckless speed, through the mid-morning traffic of whatever god-awful city they'd been in. He hadn't taken notice of the sign, and he partly suspected Klaus hadn't wanted him to know anyway, in case Damon caught up with him and tried to force the answer out of him; bottom line, you couldn't force an answer from a man who didn't have one to give. That was Klaus' logic, anyway.

The skyscrapers were impressive, Stefan would begrudgingly admit that. There wasn't much about modern life that impressed him, but the architecture was something he'd always admired. Lexie had once dragged him to New York, simply so they could party on the Statue of Liberty, but he'd spent most of their time there simply staggered by the array of buildings which had towered above him; the great giants of the sky, his father would've called them.

Elena stirred beside him; unlike last time, he'd propped her up on the left side of the car, uncomfortable with having her so close. He could sense dry blood clinging to her skin, and it almost sent his senses blazing, almost provoked him into attacking her right there and then, so he was infinitely glad he'd decided not to tempt fate by having her draped across his lap. But he had to admit, seeing her lying there, like she was nothing more than a doll was somewhat of a disturbing sight. It was a twisted piece of evidence of how psychotic Klaus really was.

It just reinforced the desire to just get away from Klaus at all costs, and he still maintained that he would even leave Elena behind to do it.

"You might want to slow down, Nick," Rebekah cautioned from the front, "We have all the time in the world to do what we want and when we want it."

Rebekah continued to fascinate him, he had to admit. Behind the heart of a killer, lay another heart which even now still contained the merest specks of life, and this heart was the heart of a human girl. Despite her behaviour at the club last night, he and Rebekah had connected in the oddest of ways, spending a lot of time waltzing down dark streets, him boasting about the joys of not having a care in the world to weigh him down, her almost chastising him for bragging about a loss that most would've considered detrimental to the soul.

He wasn't sure whether to like her or not.

Then again, he had no particular desire these days to like or dislike anybody; it took too much energy to attach positive and negative attributes to individuals, so he simply blurred them into two categories – vampires and humans. Werewolves had no place in his world – that was Klaus' territory, not his. The supernatural was just the very fabric from which his life was woven now. Nothing surprised him anymore.

That all changed when Elena opened her doe eyes, and instinctively reached for his hand.

For a moment, his hand had a life of its own. His fingers instinctively curled around hers, a perfect fit, and he froze, too lost in whatever little moment they'd created between them to break out of character. She seemed to catch on pretty quickly; her eyes widened fractionally, and hope seemed to linger on the corner of her lips, and it was almost like she'd hoped this little moment would trigger some sort of breakthrough with him.

Her hope killed the moment.

Coldly, he removed his hand from hers, turning sharply away. Perhaps he misinterpreted the harsh sigh that fell from her lips, because it seemed like the ultimate gesture of surrender and despair, but he turned back, noticing she seemed to glance at her hands, utterly lost, her fingers entwining together, the ultimate symbol of a broken girl trying to piece herself together.

He shook himself away from that sight, focusing instead on the dwindling traffic as Klaus plunged them into the countryside, trees and stretching meadows replacing the skyscrapers and shops.

They drove for forty five minutes through the countryside, before Klaus pulled to a stop, parking his car outside a lonely bar that vaguely resembled the one they'd found Ray in over the summer. The sign, a dusty, worn out looking thing, stated it was called 'Misfits', an appropriate name for a place that stereotypically catered to the disillusioned.

Stefan stepped out, watching as Elena stumbled out of her side, Klaus immediately standing between them, his eyes hovering delicately from one to the other, as if suspecting something still lingered between them that could've ruined his plans.

"Time to make good use of you," Klaus spoke, aiming this at Elena. "There's a man in this bar. His name is Wesley. I want you to find out however you can where the rest of his pack is."

"Can't you just torture it out of him?" Elena retorted, sounding crabby, her arms folded against her chest. "That seems to be your usual method of getting things done."

Stefan almost thought Klaus was going to hit her, but the hybrid merely looked amused.

"I would love to spend the day wasting away the hours by playing the magnificent game of 'Truth or Dare' with a stubborn werewolf, but I have a feeling you might be better at getting the answers quicker." He eyed her. "He's more your age anyway. Good looking lad too."

Stefan felt a prickle of something stab him, but he couldn't identify what it was.

"I'll do it," Rebekah drawled. "I'm better with charming men, anyway." She flashed a grin at Stefan. "Remember, Stefan?"

Elena scowled.

Klaus rolled his eyes.

"Unfortunately, Rebekah, werewolves have the annoying ability to pick our kind out," he pointed out. "Elena has the wonderful advantage of being human. They won't suspect her of treachery."

"I'm not going to help you lure out some werewolves just so you can ruin their lives too," Elena shot, starting to walk back to the car. "I refuse to do it."

Immediately, Klaus was in front of her, his eyes gleaming with danger.

"Stefan, weren't you going to keep this one in toe, or will I have to make good on my threat?" he asked, in a sing-song voice that somehow made his anger that much more abundant.

Stefan thought about it for a brief second, before making up his mind.

"Give us a minute," he told Klaus shortly, grabbing Elena's arm, steering her out of earshot, a few minutes down the road.

"I won't do it, Stefan," she told him, adamant as ever. "The fact you're going along with this just makes me so..."

"Actually, I hate this as much as you do," Stefan said, surprising them both with that admission.

She blinked. "You do?"

He nodded.

"Klaus should do his own dirty work, but I have to do everything he says, not to mention he has a hold on both of us because of the people we have left behind," he pointed out.

"Do you have your humanity or not, Stefan?" Elena questioned fiercely. "Because what you've done so far hasn't shown me you even care about the people we left behind. Why are you using that as an argument to defend what Klaus is making me do here?"

He rubbed his forehead wearily.

She was irritatingly persistent with her questions...and also irritatingly astute with her line of thinking.

Truthfully, he wasn't entirely sure where his humanity even was. It seemed to be sheltered behind a glass wall, which meant he was in full view of it, just without the ability to access it. His emotions would dance in front of him, taunting him, and he couldn't switch that off. He could switch off his ability to care, sure, but the ability to forget? Not so easy.

But he decided not to tell Elena all of this, knowing she'd get the wrong idea. So he came up with a cruel lie instead.

"Because I know if anything happens to the people you love, you'll fall apart, and I can't deal with your whinging and emotional crap as it is, so I imagine it would be ten times worse should anything happen to your precious family and friends," he sneered.

She didn't flinch, to her credit, but he saw the colour of her skin whiten, and the urge to hit him flared in her eyes. Elena had always been very good at concealing her emotions when it suited her, yet somehow her eyes always gave her away. He couldn't decide, even now, if that was an attractive quality about her or not. On the one hand, it made her somewhat of an enigma, and he happened to enjoy learning about someone the hard way, not just simply getting answers right there and then; then again, it was an inconvenience to try and work out her mood just by her eyes.

"Fine," she said quietly, letting out a tense sigh, "I'll do it." She walked past him, swaying her hips, a subconscious habit, he noted, adding spitefully, "If only to give _you_ an easier life."

He had no response to that, except the corners of his mouth lifted up into the ghost of a smirk.

Rebekah certainly had competition for who possessed the feistier attitude that was for sure, but something about this change in Elena bugged him slightly. He couldn't explain it. Something had changed between the time he'd told her to forget about him and now, and it had caused her to harden, and there was a glint in her eyes that told him she wouldn't forget this conversation, and she wouldn't forgive either; not right now anyway.

It was like seeing two different people, and one of them was overshadowing the other.

Suffice to say, Stefan was conflicted over this new Elena.

She would need to be tougher to survive this, but to lose her true nature entirely would destroy her. It would mould her into a Katherine wannabe, and that was not something he wanted for her.

He suddenly shook his head, troubled by his own mind and where it seemed to be taking him.

He and Elena were done; that part of his life was over.

And yet his eyes still seemed to follow her all the way back to Klaus.

...

..

.

She was done with Stefan – that was her dominant thought as she made her way to the bar.

When he wasn't equipped with his humanity, he was arrogant, rude, and just spiteful, and Elena hated it. But god help her, she still loved him. So much so that she still saw traces of the man she loved, even amongst the ripper traits of his personality. For one beautifully delusional moment, she'd imagined when he'd told her he hated what Klaus was making her do, she'd believe he would tell her it was because he didn't want her to be here, doing this, and that he wanted her home where she was safe. From there, she'd imagined him telling her that he was going to protect her, and that he would always love her even if he couldn't show that right now.

A lone tear trickled down her eye at that thought.

She should've known what she'd been dragged into the moment she'd seen Stefan after his night out with Rebekah.

A panging for her friends hit her heart at that moment, causing her to falter just before the door of the bar. She summoned up the image of Jeremy, Bonnie and Caroline to give her courage, and then pushed the door open, finding inside was a ghost town, at best.

You had the stereotypical bar scene: couple of pool tables in the corner, dartboards, a bar equipped with a variety of bottles of alcohol, neon lights that flickered, looking on the verge of breaking; then you had the posters on the wall, which told a different story. Now, Elena had been to some controversial bars in her time, ones which had clearly displayed the owner's political views and other ideologies, but she'd never been one so clearly advocating a certain type of mythology.

Instead of football posters, there were paintings and murals based around wolves. One wall had been beautifully decorated with hand painted wolves, and it seemed to almost tell a story, with the moon playing a core role (naturally).

"Beautiful, aren't they?" came a youthful voice.

Elena turned, noticing a dark haired man observing her from the bar. He had shaggy hair that cut off just before his ears, and tanned skin, the rugged look completed by his dark stubble and magnificent sideburns, yet incredibly he appeared to be fairly young, perhaps in his early twenties, but no older than that.

"They are," she agreed, suddenly turning shy for no properly explained reason. "Did you paint them?"

"I painted some, yes," he replied vaguely, his eyes shining with an inexplicable emotion, which could've been pride. "This bar attracts a special kind of customer, and every one that comes in leaves their mark. Kind of like signatures in a yearbook."

"I take it most of your customers are a fan of wolves?" she guessed, relieved when the comment earned her a chuckle.

"Oh, yes." He smiled warmly. "This bar was my dad's. He loved wolves. Ran a wolf sanctuary for a few years, and decided to dedicate a bar to them, not that wolves can appreciate liquor or anything."

She laughed at that.

"And the name of the bar? How does that fit in?"

"He always thought wolves were the misfits of the animal world. They are portrayed in most novels and television shows as being these vicious, nasty killers, but they are so much more than what they appear," he replied, his smile turning secretive. "They're intelligent creatures, and loyal, and my dad loved that about them. After he died, I made sure to keep this place running."

She smiled.

"I'm Elena," she introduced, stepping forward.

"Wesley." He leaped gracefully over the bar to come and kiss her hand, which she was immediately charmed by. "What can I get ya to drink?"

"Just beer." She felt like if she was going to do this, she might as well get a drink out of it. "I've had a...rough day."

"I don't see a pretty face like yours around a place like this for any other reason than a rough day," Wesley chuckled, and she liked the fact his eyes lit up when he laughed.

It was kind of what she'd loved most about Stefan; the fact that even though most of the time his eyes had a certain gloom to them, as he contemplated on a daily basis all the terrible things he'd seen and done, it made the light that shone there when he laughed that much stronger, like seeing the first rays of sun after an endless parade of darkness.

"So, Elena," Wesley spoke, savouring her name on his tongue. "What brings you my humble little bar?" He gestured around. "You're my first customer today, as you can see."

"I'm meeting a friend here." The lie slipped too easily from her tongue. "I'd never heard of the place, but it's en route to where we're supposed to be going."

"Why didn't you just meet there then?"

She smiled, adding a little coyness to her smile so the innocent act wouldn't wear thin too quickly.

"We're heading to a city, and forgive me for saying this but...I'm a city virgin." She accepted the proffered beer gratefully. "Never been to one in my life. He offered to show me around."

"He?" Wesley picked up on the pronoun. "Your boyfriend?"

"Nope."

"Husband?"

She laughed.

"I'm a little young to be married." She leaned forward, using her eyes to flirt a little. "But you knew that. Serving me when you know I'm underage? I could report you."

"Hey. I need the business," Wesley spoke, grinning broadly. "Technically speaking, this place has yet to obtain a license, but nobody knows it's really here, which has its advantages and disadvantages. Only people with the right sort of frame of mind know where to find it, and I prefer it that way." Suddenly his entire demeanour changed. "So, _Elena,_ tell me something. How is it you know about werewolves?"

She flinched, a force of habit at this point. She honestly hadn't expected to have been found out so soon, but then again she was no Katherine. Katherine could've probably had Wesley eating out of the palm of her hand, before she inevitably ripped his heart out and left him for dead. Elena knew her only skill at getting people to tell her what they wanted was by being honest herself. Deception had never come easy to her.

"How did you know?" she asked, deflecting.

"Like I said, only people with the right frame of mind know how this place exists." Wesley scrutinised her. "The air in here is perfumed with vervain, so you're not a vampire, so either you are a werewolf, or you run with them, but in any case," he grinned, "welcome."

"I know a werewolf," she said, finding this angle was a good one to run with, seeing how it contained an element of truth to it. "He's a very good friend of mine."

"Recently turned, I presume," Wesley guessed. "He part of a pack?"

"Nope." Elena had to think about that for a moment, her mind recalling Jules and Bradley, but unsure whether Tyler had ever been considered part of their entourage before. "He pretty much had no warning about the kind of life he'd been thrown into."

It was funny, but that description could've applied to any of her friends, because who had really thrown themselves into the supernatural, knowing full well what it entailed? She was a doppelganger, Bonnie was a witch, Tyler was a werewolf – well, a hybrid now – and everyone else fell under either the vampire category, or the human category, yet still very much interwoven into the supernatural tapestry.

"Often the way of it," Wesley responded, shrugging his shoulders. "I know in my case, I had the advantage of having a family who have always known what we've been, but the first time I turned couldn't have been more badly timed." He gave her a wry smile. "I turned on the night my father died."

She exhaled sharply.

"I can't imagine how awful that must have been."

"The worst part, the guy I killed was just trying to see if I was okay. But I was going through the motions, and I didn't even mean to kill him. It was...an accident," he finished lamely.

Elena found herself slipping into one of the barstools, her hand resting lightly on his, trying to convey with both her hands and her eyes that she was genuinely sorry for him. Werewolves were seldom in her mind, because vampires and hybrids had taken over that particular niche, yet they had a silent struggle all of their own. She wondered how many times she'd even asked Tyler how he'd been doing with the werewolf thing, and immediately felt so guilty when she realised apart from a couple of occasions, she'd otherwise not given him much thought.

_"You're too absorbed with all your suicidal tendencies to notice..." _

What an odd moment for Damon's quote to come floating into her mind, yet it seemed to fit for this situation.

"So, Wesley..." She tried to lighten the mood. "Do you just confess your life story to every pretty girl who walks in here, or...?"

He laughed at that.

"I'm usually not so forthcoming, I'll grant you that," he admitted. "But my kind... well, we're a dying breed. There's a whisper going around that some hybrid dick is going around, trying to turn us all into vampires." He spat bitterly on the ground. "I'll die before I'd let that happen to any of my friends."

Elena felt a stab of guilt, and she closed her eyes, trying to banish it, summoning up the image of her friends as motivation to keep this charade going.

"And I must admit," Wesley added, looking away, "most of the customers I get here are men with gaudy looking tattoos, and muscles the size of California, so it's always a surprise when any female crosses the threshold."

"Don't you have anyone in your life to talk to? A girlfriend? Friends?" she asked, deciding to end this as abruptly as she could.

"I have my pack," he said nonchalantly. "But no. No girlfriend. I've never allowed anyone to get close enough to make it as that, given what I am." He poured himself a drink, raising it bitterly in the air. "I'm sure you can understand why."

She nodded, taking another long gulp of the beer, which felt refreshing in the back of her throat. She couldn't help wondering whether Klaus and Stefan were listening in – of course Klaus would be, but would Stefan? – and the thought made the butterflies in her stomach multiply.

"And where are the rest of your pack? Nearby I presume," she asked, trying not to sound too interested.

"Near enough," Wesley responded, suddenly losing his smile, which made her tense up, although she managed to hide it. "Why the interest?"

"I have an affinity for running into the supernatural," she replied, with a bitter smile that felt too real to have feigned. "Let's just say it's an interesting moment when I run into someone who doesn't instinctively want me to stab them in the chest."

Wesley's suspicion disappeared at once, and he let out a roar of laughter.

"Oh, I like you, Elena," he praised, knocking his glass against her bottled beer. "It's a shame you're not like me."

"Why?"

His eyes bored onto hers.

"My father used to tell me that the way you should judge someone is by what their eyes say. Eyes cannot lie. You can pretend to be happy, but you can't pretend to mean it. The eyes tell you someone's story before they've had chance to even tell it." He gave her a wry look. "I look into yours and I see someone who's had a bad hand dealt to her time and time again, but you keep surviving." He finished his drink, proceeding to wash out the glass. "I can respect that. It'd be nice to hang around with you more often."

Suddenly the doors swung open, and Elena instinctively turned, her insides turning to terror only to be relieved to see a broad shouldered, blonde haired man walk inside. He gave her a quick glance, but otherwise ignored her.

"Hey, Sean," Wesley greeted him. "Usual is it?"

"We need to talk." The blonde haired stranger glanced at Elena. "Alone."

"Sure." Wesley suddenly looked cautious. "Do you mind, Elena?"

"No, go ahead," she said, inserting as much warmth as she could into her voice.

As Wesley and his friend disappeared into another room, Elena allowed her guard to drop, and she felt her breathing hitch slightly.

Lying was one thing; pretending to be friendly just to lure someone into a trap that would send him and his friends into a cursed life was something else entirely. She felt horrible, and silently debated about whether or not to call the whole thing off.

After finishing her drink, Elena decided the best thing to do was just deal with Klaus' wrath, because she couldn't go through it, and then hopped off the bar stool. She strode towards the door with confidence, only for a couple of random men to step out from nowhere, their stares as menacing as she'd ever seen them before.

"Excuse me," she said politely, "I need to go."

They didn't back down.

"They won't be going anywhere, Elena, and neither will you," came the quiet voice of Wesley.

She whirled around, suddenly terrified.

He looked menacing, the friendly facade gone at once. Anger and disappointment rippled across his face, and beside him, his friend looked self-satisfied, and it was then she knew she'd been found out.

"You lied to me," he said matter-of-factly. "You brought the hybrid scumbag with you to try and find out where my pack was."

"He threatened my friends," she spat, as a last ditch attempt at looking brave. "I didn't mean to – "

"Just stop talking," Wesley sighed, giving a signal to one of the men behind her.

She felt two sets of arms grip her tight, and that feeling of being taken just triggered something in her. She balked, kicked their ankles, and attempted to run, only to find herself slammed up against the wall, one broad arm nestled between her chin and neck.

"Please," she wheezed, trying her best to look pathetic enough that they would release her. "I'm no threat to you."

"No, but the vampire scum you've brought along are," Wesley told her coldly, before adding to his men, "take her out back. Make sure she doesn't escape."

Elena tried, and failed, to get away, but eventually she realised she was just one human in the grips of something much more powerful than herself.

That applied to her situation with Klaus as much as it did to this situation with Wesley, and she decided she was absolutely sick of being the victim.

.

..

...

Stefan hated being antsy. It made him pace, and that in turn seemed to stir the blood lust within him.

Klaus and Rebekah waited patiently in the confines of the truck while he was stuck outside. He felt claustrophobic sitting inside the SUV, so he'd made sure he was outside, which hadn't bothered Klaus at all, yet Rebekah seemed to remain suspicious of him.

He hated listening to Elena flirt.

It wasn't that she was bad at it; on the contrary, she was too good at it, and somehow she made it seem more innocent, more real, than Katherine had ever been able to do. She was the perfect liar, able to use that unique skill of turning a lie into enough of a truth that her voice didn't give anything away. He had to admire that, if nothing else.

Eventually, though, Klaus got out of the car, having heard what he needed to hear.

"He said they were near," he said, sounding triumphant. "I was right."

"Sounds like you already had an inkling of where they were already."

"More or less. I just needed confirmation," Klaus replied, shrugging.

"So Elena put herself at risk for nothing?"

"I'm sorry." Klaus suddenly looked dangerous. "I didn't realise you still _cared _for the girl. Maybe my compulsion techniques are getting lazy."

Stefan stared stonily at him, refusing to give anything away.

"I don't care, Klaus. I'm just wondering how many times you can push that girl to the limit before she breaks. Maybe you might drive her to the edge to the point where she kills herself, meaning no more doppelganger blood for you."

The sneer in his own tone shocked him, but he stood his ground, barely flinching when Klaus closed the gap between them.

"You know you might want to change your attitude, Stefan. If I find there's even a tiny part of you that still cares for her, I'll break it out of you," Klaus promised. "Just because her blood is valuable doesn't mean she is. I mean, there's plenty of ways to break a human without breaking bones. I could...let's see...compel her to relieve the night of her parents' accident, over and over until she collapses. Or, better yet, I could compel her to believe all her friends are dead. It's amazing how much the fight goes out of someone when they believe there's nothing left for them to hold on to."

Stefan was almost impressed by the sheer nerve Klaus had by threatening Elena, thinking he was supposed to give a damn.

He didn't, but you couldn't deny there were only so many times you could push someone like Elena around before they snapped, and he was only looking out for himself because he knew what he'd said earlier on would be present in her mind if and when she had a psychotic break. He wanted to stay alive long enough to see Klaus dead – that was all that was holding onto him right now; that, and a twisted sense of loyalty which had briefly existed in the 20s for Rebekah, who he was beginning to realise wasn't actually that different from the girl he'd known. She seemed to be more spontaneous, more vibrant and he liked that about her.

Klaus suddenly frowned, tilting his head to one side.

"It's gone quiet," he noted.

"So?"

"So?" Klaus sounded incredulous. "You don't live a thousand years and not learn to recognise the different kinds of silences which exist. This one reeks of treachery." He looked at Stefan, his eyes locking on the other vampire. "Go in through the front. I'll cover the back."

"And risk getting attacked if you're right?" Stefan was furious. "I thought I was indispensable to you?"

"You were once. Back in the 20s, you had your uses, but I could just as easily tear your throat out, then there won't be anyone around to object to how I handle Elena," Klaus remarked, the coldness to his tone almost, _almost, _clawing back whatever little humanity Stefan had left.

"Fine," Stefan said shortly, running a hand through his hair.

It wasn't like he'd ever had a choice anyway.

Deciding to use tact, Stefan blurred his way to the door of the bar, hovering there before opening it slightly. Immediately, the air that hit him felt poisonous, and he knew vervain had somehow been pumped into the entire room via some sort of ventilation system. He couldn't go in without giving himself away.

Sighing, as though he was undertaking a tedious task, he decided to opt on following the set of footsteps he'd suddenly discovered, realising they led away from the bar, heading off towards the back.

As soon as he'd reached the back of the bar though, in what had to be some mediocre equivalent to a garden, he stopped.

Elena was there, sandwiched between two hefty looking men, both of indeterminate age with dark unforgiving eyes, one of whom had a large tattoo of a hungry wolf with yellow eyes peeping out from the area around his chest that his low necked vest top exposed. They were debating between them what to do with her, and the suggestions they came up with were hardly creative ideas at all. In the end, they started dragging her in the direction of a sloppily parked van, but Stefan didn't plan on letting them get there at all.

In almost perfect synchronicity with Klaus, who'd chosen this moment to make his grand appearance, Stefan raced forward, leaping forward to tackle one of the men to the ground, whilst Klaus took care of the other.

"Run," he snarled at her, and she needed no persuasion.

But what struck him as crazy was that for half a beat, she paused, agony stretching across her face, and he realised she wanted to _help_, and the notion took his breath away. Soon afterwards, however, her senses caught up with her, and she began to flee in the direction of the SUV.

Unfortunately, Wesley overtook her, his elbow jamming sharply in her direction, making direct contact with her face, and the force behind it caused her to fall to the ground, a sharp gasp emitting from her lips. He then grabbed her, locking an arm around her neck in a perfectly executed headlock.

"Wait right there," he ordered, and Stefan paused at the exact moment his fangs scaled the neck of the guy he was currently wrestling.

"Oh, what now?" Klaus complained, holding the other. "My day _just_ got interesting as well."

"You're the hybrid I've heard about," Wesley said, and there was a note of fear in his voice that seemed to make Klaus' eyes light up with a malicious kind of delight. "You're Klaus."

"Indeed. I'd say pleasure to make your acquaintance, but that's my girl you're currently strangling," Klaus replied, in a pleasant tone that had Stefan all kinds of nervous. "Let her go, or I'll turn your intestines into a noose, and watch you bleed out at the same moment you're hanging from mid-air by your neck."

"You sent her in to find my pack," Wesley snarled. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't end her life right _here_ right _now_."

"Because you're better than that," Stefan spoke, cutting across Klaus' inevitable tyrannical speech that would sure have come had he not stepped in. "You would really end an innocent life just to quell your need for revenge?"

"Why not? She's hardly innocent anyway," Wesley barked. "She set me up."

"Because she's as much a victim of Klaus as you are," Stefan cut across him. "So I'd suggest you stop being a dick, and think about what you're actions are likely to do. First of all, this pretentious douche here," he gestured to Klaus, "will not stop short of ending the lives of the people you care about if anything happens to her. And I won't be able to talk him out of that, let's get that out there now. Secondly, she's eighteen years old. She's lost a lot, had to deal with a lot of heartache in a short time. Now, I know you don't care about that. Why would you care about the soap opera of a teenage girl who clearly can't stay out of trouble for one day? But think about how for one moment how she made you feel. She made you feel like somebody gave a damn about you, and hell, admit it, you were attracted to her. She took away the pain that comes with a lonely existence, and you are lonely, aren't you Wesley? Despite all this talk about werewolves and packs and loyalty, you want love. And your real issue here is the fact that you let your guard down for a girl you didn't even know, because you wanted a chance to let that feeling grow.

"Elena Gilbert is either the best thing that ever happens to you, or the worst. When you're with her, even for just a split second, the world disappears, and you forget who and what you are. And when she's gone, you don't want to ever feel again, because how can living without her have any meaning good enough to keep you anchored to the earth? You can have your Elena Gilbert, just – let her go. You can walk away."

Wesley stood there, visibly stunned.

Klaus just looked furious.

Elena's eyes locked with his, and there was a question framed there he couldn't answer, for her sake more than his.

_Did you mean that?_

"Elena_ Gilbert_, you say?" Wesley mumbled, as if recalling something. "A Tyler Lockwood came passing here once."

"I know him," she wheezed out, "he's my friend."

"Yeah, he mentioned you." Wesley looked thoroughly disconcerted for the moment. "Only in passing, mind, and he did lump you in with a bunch of other names I can't remember, but... seems your story is legit."

For a moment, his grip on Elena seemed to loosen, and she relaxed a little. But Stefan knew to trust his instincts, because then Wesley seemed to tighten up, some sort of determination settling in on his face.

"People talk. People have been saying this girl's blood turns my kind into vampires." He shook his head vehemently. "I told Elena that wolves are loyal, especially to their own kind. If she dies, I save a bunch of my people from a fate worse than death. I know what my choice is gonna be."

His grip on her tightened, and it was then Stefan made an irritable sound before launching forward, pushing Elena out of the way before shoving his fist through Wesley's chest, dragging out his heart. He looked back at Klaus who, with a ruthless kind of calm, managed to tear out the hearts of both the other men, looking mildly disgruntled, which told Stefan that he wasn't going to hear the end of this.

"There was another guy," Elena spoke, wrapping her arms around her thin frame.

Stefan gave her a sidelong glance.

"He ran off," Rebekah reported, walking into view. "I've just seen him."

"And you_ let_ him run away?" Klaus demanded, furious.

"Relax." She dangled the keys in front of his face. "Figured the little weasel has to be running somewhere – I could chase him down on my worst day – so why not see where he leads us?"

"Good plan," Klaus all but snarled at her, snatching the keys from her fingers before storming ahead.

She stared after him, before her bewildered eyes fell on Stefan's.

"What put him in such a foul mood?"

Then she took in Stefan's clenched jaw, and Elena's widened eyes, and recognition fluttered into view.

"I see," she murmured, turning on her heel and striding confidently after her brother.

Stefan stood there, frozen, wondering if he'd possibly just made the worst mistake of his life letting Klaus see that display, but he'd had to do something.

He turned, noticing Elena was staring at him, something close to wonder and hope dawning in her eyes. This was dangerous; he couldn't have her hanging onto the idea that he was fixable, because the moment he got chance, he was out of here. Out of her life.

It would be easier if she hated him.

"Stefan," she breathed, moving in towards him.

"Don't." He tried to convey the warning in his eyes. "What I said, I didn't say it for you. I said it because if something had happened to you, Klaus would've made sure I spent eternity paying for it. I did it to save my own skin."

She recoiled a little, but shook her head vehemently.

"I don't believe you. You still feel, deep down, and you hide that, because you know Klaus will hurt me to break you. You're afraid of that."

"Believe what you want, Elena," he said flatly. "Sometimes I think I would've had an easier life if I'd never met you."

And he walked away, pretending he didn't see her follow behind, her shoulders sagging, the sound of each breath expelled from her body resembling a mournful sigh.

He didn't care.

But she was reminding him of all the reasons why he should, and that was just not right. He would have to fix that, before Klaus destroyed them both.

* * *

A/n: Thank you for all the reviews. This will follow the season 3 plot despite Elena being in the situation she is right now. Stefan is in a difficult situation himself; does he lean in to what he's beginning to feel, or does he fight it? Either way next chapter presents several confrontations, and kinda puts Elena through hell again. I had fun writing Wesley, by the way. I like writing OCs, but I am aware most of them turn out to be quite rubbish, so I thought I wouldn't drag his character out too much. Keep reviewing. I enjoy each one I get.


	4. A Conflict of Interest

Through Thick And Thin

...

..

.

Summary: Set during 3x05. Klaus takes Elena away from Mystic Falls, and Stefan tags along, humanity-less, and with strict instructions to guard her. But is his humanity really beyond retrieving? And can a broken and mentally exhausted Elena coax him back from the edge? Stelena, with a healthy dose of Stebekah to boot, and also a lot of action from the Originals.

.

..

...

Chapter 4

A Conflict Of Interest

.

..

...

Stefan was almost ninety percent sure he was going to suffer in some way the moment he found the hotel Klaus had furiously described to him over the phone.

But he'd needed space, and time – mostly hoping having both would calm Klaus down, who already seemed to be on the very of a breakdown because the fact of the matter was his compulsion had only worked to a degree. Stefan could still feel his emotions pounding away at him, scratching at the bars which surrounded them. It was a kind of hell, but he'd found drinking vast amounts of liquor seemed to do the trick.

Klaus and Rebekah's ploy at finding the werewolf pack had worked, and he'd turned them all using Elena as bait, because apparently even werewolves weren't immune to her doe-eyed, innocent farm girl routine she pulled. And he was surprised Klaus had even left him to his own devices, except he suspected the hybrid needed the time to cool down, even though Stefan had been sure something more than just blind rage had been visible in his eyes. But he'd taken the opportunity, finding the nearest bar that wasn't tattooed with wolves – _vomit, _as Rebekah would've said – and ordering himself drink after drink, until he was able to repress everything, and then he felt himself back in that emotionless state again.

When he eventually found the hotel, escorted by two lovely ladies of indeterminate age, he stumbled inside, bidding the ladies farewell with a mocking wave. He wasn't out of it – vampires couldn't really get drunk as the alcohol tended not to linger long enough in the system to have too long an effect – but he knew he wasn't completely sober, and the idea of just letting Elena see this side of him almost made him giddy with anticipation.

She needed to see every side of him, so she could let him go once and for all, and get it through her thick skull once and for all that he didn't need saving, that he was beyond "fixing". Maybe moving on would be good for both of them, who knew?

As he found the room, he opened the door, immediately hit by the scene he saw before him. Elena was on the bed, her knees drawn to her chest, her cheeks flushed, her eyes hollow and somehow haunted. Klaus sat near her, his fingers playing with her hair, but his eyes immediately snapped to him the moment he was fully in the room.

For one moment, Stefan's mind leaped to the worst possible conclusion, putting the clues he saw before him in a horrifying order that made him sober up fairly quickly.

"What's going on?" he asked, as lucid as he could given how much alcohol he'd consumed within a short space of time.

"Ah, you're back," Klaus announced, rising to his feet, looking faintly triumphant, which instantly had Stefan's senses on red alert.

What was good for Klaus usually meant bad for everyone else, and since there was no sign of Rebekah, he had to conclude this little display was supposed to be for his benefit. Stefan took the time to study Elena, but she didn't meet his eyes, and it wasn't hard to mistake the glistening trails down her cheeks for anything else but tear marks.

He shrugged, trying to look as though he was impervious to this situation, but if anything it made Klaus' grin widen.

"I assume we're taking off tomorrow. Hitting a new city," Stefan guessed, hoping if he could steer Klaus onto a reasonably safe topic, he could stall the hybrid from inevitably revealing what had happened in the short time he'd been gone.

"Actually, we're going to stay here for a few days," Klaus said, his lazy tone doing nothing to stem the tide of suspicion currently washing over Stefan. "I want to break these new hybrids in anyway."

"I see." Stefan frowned. "I thought you would've been anxious to have turned as many as you could."

"Why? Elena is still young." Klaus touched Elena's shoulder, and she came to life, shuddering violently, and instantly Stefan became suspicious again. "Now I know she isn't going anywhere, I have plenty of time to make my hybrid army."

"She's awfully quiet," Stefan noted.

"Oh, that. Well, that's because she's taking a rather unpleasant trip down memory lane at the moment," Klaus replied, in a pleasant tone, as if they were talking about the weather. "I compelled her to relive the night of her parents accident...quite vividly...over and over again."

"Why?"

"Because despite my compulsion, Rebekah seems to think – and I agree – that you're displaying too many tender displays of affection towards her for my liking." Klaus scowled. "Now, I could go about this two ways: I could either compel you to fully immerse yourself into that ripper identity you always teeter on the edge of truly becoming, which, to be honest, is a tedious route to go down. And it seems your love for this girl truly does conquer all, so I figured out it has to be on your terms when and where you turn full on ripper."

All of a sudden, Elena started choking, her hands clutching her throat as she struggled for air. She arched backwards, a wheezing sound exploding out of her, like she was being exorcised. It was pure instinct at this point which told Stefan to step forward, but Klaus blocked him.

"What's wrong with her?" Stefan asked gruffly, concerned, but not enough to let down that solid glass wall which his emotions were now frantically beating at, driving metaphorical hammers against it in an effort to free themselves.

"Well, that's the thing about compulsion." Klaus gave him a lazy grin. "Whatever you command tends to be taken quite... _literally."_

"But she'll die. You don't want her to die, so this right here," Stefan gestured at Elena, "is pointless. You're merely demonstrating the fact you can do whatever you want, whenever you want."

Elena still seemed to struggle for breath, and she seemed to mouth the words 'I love you', delivered in a tender way that told Stefan she was embedded in the memory of that night, and those words weren't in any way directed towards him at all.

"You've made your point," he said coldly to Klaus. "Now take the compulsion off."

Klaus shook his head, smiling maliciously.

"Not until you become the ripper. The real one. Not this tame shade of ripper who teeters on the edge of his humanity, all the _bloody time_."

"_I've done everything you've asked!" _Stefan roared, frustrated. "I gave up _everything._ I am the ripper!"

"To an outsider, perhaps, but you're not revelling in the hunt like you used to be." Klaus leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with a sick fascination. "This," he gestured to Elena, "won't stop until you become immune to what she brings out in you."

Elena wheezed and spluttered, her body echoing the signs of drowning, delivering everything but actual water to the surface. The hue of her skin changed, but she seemed to be tethered to life, somehow, and Stefan knew instinctively that she was on a repetitive cycle, constantly going from the start of the night of her parent's accident, to the end, that was why she wasn't actually dying, and to prove his theory right, she suddenly began breathing again, but then her eyes widened, and she started screaming, and he could pinpoint from her expression what moment of that horrible night she was reliving.

And that would've been enough for him, enough to keep his true feelings on the matter secret, except one eye gave him away to Klaus when it started twitching sporadically.

"You still care," Klaus mused, his voice dangerously low.

"No, I don't. My humanity switch is off, thanks to you."

"I compelled you to turn it off, but unfortunately it doesn't want to seem to stay off." Klaus grimaced for half a second, before suddenly remembering something that made him grin. "No matter – I have a back-up plan anyway."

He whistled, and Stefan turned at the sound of the door, his jaw slackening when he saw one of the hybrids dragging in his brother, who, by the looks of him, had been through quite an ordeal. Streaks of dried blood tattooed his face, and he seemed to be propped up against his captors, as if left unable to physically walk.

"Well, he looks rough," he commented, keeping his tone flat, uninterested, when actually every nerve in his body had suddenly come to life at this new development. "Where did you find him?"

"A couple of miles outside the city," Klaus commented, eyeing Stefan with an intensity that made him, frankly, uncomfortable. "Luckily in the time it took me to order my new hybrids to stay on red alert, one of them managed to detain him, and even though I thought about killing him on the spot, I thought he might be a better way of testing your humanity."

"Ugh," Damon groaned, one blood soaked eye opening, taking in the situation.

It was with a certain degree of bitterness that Stefan noticed his brother seemed to look straight towards Elena first, noticing how she was silently conveying a sense of mingled terror and resignation that he would not be able to identity.

"Elena!" Damon tried to surge forwards, but the hybrid was having none of it.

"Ah, ah, ah," Klaus tutted disapprovingly, "let's not forget you're here for one purpose, and one purpose only."

Damon's eyes rolled to Klaus' direction, a look of contempt spreading across his features.

"Ah, it's the fairest hybrid of them all." He spat out some blood. "I was a bit miffed I didn't get to see your face in town before you took off again."

"I came to settle a few scores, get some answers, so believe me, I wasn't around for too long." Klaus gave him a tight lipped grin. "In fact, your absence was really a tremendous help to me. Without you around to save your damsel, I was able to take your girl right out of town."

"Stefan." Damon addressed Stefan, who really didn't know how to process all of this. "You gonna let this asshole treat Elena this way?"

"Yeah...bit of a new development I should warn you about," Klaus interrupted. "He doesn't care about Elena anymore. His humanity switch is off." He gave Stefan a sidelong glance before adding, "Allegedly. You're here to prove whether it truly is or not."

"Super," Damon groaned, "And what's going on with Elena, or is no one going to enlighten me about that?"

"She's reliving the night she almost drowned," Stefan replied mechanically. "Over and over again."

Damon remained tight lipped, but the skin around his eyes whitened slightly, and Stefan wondered if his brother was contemplating what that was like, to be made to relive a horrifying memory over and over again until it drove you mad. Maybe he could relate, it was hard to tell with Damon sometimes.

"Please let her go," Damon said, speaking directly to Klaus. "Take me instead. I don't care what you do to me. Compel _me_ to be your little bitch. Let her go home."

"Sadly, as much as the prospect of you being – as you so eloquently phrased it – _my little bitch _entertains me, her blood is valuable to me," Klaus responded, his expression one of thoughtfulness, as if deciding how to proceed with his plans.

Stefan still couldn't quite take his eyes from Elena, who by now seemed to be reliving the point where the water first started filling up her lungs. Her eyes contracted repeatedly, her lips opening and shutting like a goldfish's, and her attempts at taking a simple breath sounded painful; yet still it seemed easy to shut her out, easy to tune her out like the gory parts of a horror film.

Damon seemed glued to the scene too, his desire to help painted across his features like the most obvious of masterpieces, but the hybrid's grip on him was too tight, and he was too weak, the healing process clearly taking longer than necessary for him to be able to do anything.

"Elena clearly triggers your humanity, but not quite enough to let it all back in," Klaus mused, circling Damon like a predator.

"Why are you doing this? You have me," Stefan spat. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Because I'm yet to see the brother I had briefly in the 20s," Klaus retorted, blurring right up to him, their faces inches apart. "I want that comrade back, but to do so, he has to detach himself from _everything_."

"I can't just do that. You told me to protect Elena. This is what I'm doing," he protested.

"Lose the attitude, Stefan. Rebekah can read body signs as easily as I can rip out hearts. Hey...now that's an idea."  
And without warning, Klaus plunged his hand into Damon's chest, his fingers curled around his heart.

That was what seemed to cause Stefan to really spring into life. He leaped forward, trying to push Klaus out of the way, and ended up flat on the floor, staring at the ceiling, Elena's wheezing breaths providing the soundtrack to an otherwise hellish moment.

"So your _brother_ is the key to your humanity," Klaus murmured above him. "Interesting..."

Instantly, Stefan was back on his feet, knowing what Klaus was about to do next, fully prepared to, once again, put his life on the line for his brother's, and he had no time to analyse where his head was actually at right now, only that Damon was his priority right now.

"Fine, go ahead, tear out my heart," Damon breathed, his eyes resting briefly on his brother's, and something unspoken passed between them, a bond that stretched further back in time than perhaps either of them realised. "Just know that if I die, your execution date might as well be marked in your calendar. Because my brother will kill you. Not for me, but for Elena. And just between us, I hope he makes it hurt."

"Damon, don't – "

"Whether you have the switch on or off, brother, that doesn't change the fact you're an asshole," Damon snarled. "But if you're gonna be bad, be bad with purpose. Don't you dare let Klaus destroy you. Protect Elena, or I swear to God I'll find a way to haunt your ass from now until eternity."

Damon's eyes lingered on Elena's, and a look of pain crossed his features, and it was then Stefan registered just how deep the bond between them had gotten, and that seemed to tear at him.

And he realised that as painful as it was not to care, caring somehow seemed a thousand times worse. It could cut you, giving you scars no weapon in history could ever match. Lexi's death was burned on his heart; watching Elena be sacrificed was scratched onto his mind; he couldn't escape each horrific trauma he'd seen and been a part of. His history was bloodier than most monarchs', and he was beginning to doubt the existence of the switch because that guilt was omnipresent, always lurking, never ceasing to remind him of its existence.

He swallowed loudly, and all of a sudden he found himself smashing the so-called switch altogether, and that glass wall became a bricked up chamber where he could no longer hear the tortured screams of his humanity. It was just easier to brick it all up, leaving no room for cracks, and he saw in his brother's eyes that it was obvious what he was doing.

He drowned out his brother's yells, tuned out Elena's quiet sobs, and just turned it all off for good.

He missed Klaus compelling Damon to leave and to stop following them, missed Elena being compelled into a deep sleep, and felt a lazy smile fall into place. Because this, right here, was the perfect place to be; no longer was he encased between a rock and a hard place, instead he just had one foot on each, laughing at the world, the bloodlust swelling up inside him, becoming the most important part of his world.

And when his lazy smile matched perfectly with Klaus', he knew there was absolutely no going back.

...

..

.

It was the worst feeling of her entire life...being played over and over again like some hideous melody you can never get out of your head once you've heard it. Like every pop song gone bad, like a wailing shriek across a deserted piece of land, that night just played itself over and over again, and the worst part was she actually felt like she was there all over again.

Numerous times this happened before she became acutely aware someone else was watching her pain. Other than that, she just felt herself fall forwards again and again, every part of the memory feeling so real that when it came to actually breathing, she couldn't do it. It felt like actual water filled up her lungs instead of air, and the sensation was harrowing, to say the least.

The first time it'd happened, the shock of it all had stopped her from reacting. It had been like an out of body experience, only her spirit seemed to plunge back into a past moment, accepting its fate all over again. She'd only started crying the third or fourth time, because the numbness had been like ice, and it had only thawed out when she realised what was going on. Truth be told, on the night of her parent's accident, she'd cried buckets underwater, knowing her mother was already dead and that her father was minutes from meeting the same fate. Fear for herself hadn't crept in until later; somehow, even then, the thought of worrying about herself hadn't occurred to her until the last possible moment. The tears hadn't shown though, understandably, but she'd felt her heart break and break until the pieces metaphorically floated up and out of her body.

When Klaus eventually compelled her to sleep, her dreams, naturally, were plagued with fragments of that night. In some fragments, the whole night changed, and her parents escaped, leaving her behind to die alone. Sometimes, she was the one that survived, but left her parents behind.

The moment she woke up, she felt distant and cold, detached from the world around her. Breakfast seemed to be served, and, realising she couldn't keep throwing food at Klaus, she ate it numbly, wondering absent-mindedly where Stefan had ended up. She tried to recall whether she'd seen Damon last night, but her mind was a clutter right now; she was like a broken toy left on the shelf, and the worst part was she couldn't get herself out of this self-pity mode she'd suddenly been switched on to. Misery became a cloak to hide herself under; it was safe there, warm, and happiness became the enemy, because history showed the moment she had a shred of happiness, or hope, it was snatched away so cruelly, leaving her cold and drowning in despair.

After eating breakfast, she visited the bathroom, taking the time to have a long shower, the water involuntarily making her flinch every time it hit her back. Afterwards, she cleaned herself up, surprised to find new clothes had been left out for her on the bed. Without wondering where everybody had ended up, she gathered the clothes, got changed, and curled back under the thin hotel sheets.

It occurred to her she could've used this time to reach for the phone and call for help, but she was still encased in a state of shock; sensible wasn't the word to describe her at that moment, and moments after that thought had fluttered into her mind, Klaus and Rebekah swarmed in, so she would've had a minute's conversation, at most.

"So, Elena," Rebekah spoke, sounding smug as anything, "we should hit the city. Find some shops and go shopping. What do you say?"

Elena looked up, her face blank.

"Why?" she asked, trying – and failing – to rouse some genuine curiosity.

"Because I'm bored, and Stefan's out killing the neighbourhood, and the last time I took my brother shopping, he insulted me."

"I did not insult you, Rebekah. I stated facts, like how much of a brat you can be when you don't get your own way."

"You're an ass. There. I can state facts too."

"Congratulations. An impressive achievement to rival the speed of your tongue."

"A bird of my tongue is better than a beast of yours," she quoted, and the Shakespearian reference took Elena off guard.

Klaus rolled his eyes, concluding their morning banter.

"Do I have a choice?" Elena asked, somewhat bitterly.

"No, but I thought I'd at least ask anyway," Rebekah told her, in a sickeningly sweet voice. "Will she behave do you think, Nik?"

Klaus studied Elena for half a second, before shaking his head.

"If she runs, she has nowhere to go," he said, "and after last night's little...experiment, I doubt she's in the mood to try her hand at a great escape."

He chuckled to himself, evidently in a good mood, which had her suspicious at once.

"Alright." Rebekah suddenly grabbed Elena's arm, dragging her to her feet. "Let's go."

"Try not to kill her, Rebekah," Klaus called after them. "I still have a dagger to spare, you know!"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Rebekah muttered, looking bored.

She half dragged Elena down the stairs, and as they went outside, Elena took in the fresh air, her eyes lighting up with a vague kind of interest now she could take in the sights for herself. They were in another city, but there were fewer skyscrapers, just tall buildings with corporate names on them. It was less pretty than the last one, and parts of it just seemed to be falling apart, with no chance of being repaired any time soon.

"I thought we could use this time to get to know one another," Rebekah said, tugging Elena along the streets, looking equally as fascinated by her surroundings.

"Why?"

"You ask that question a lot, don't you?" Rebekah noticed, her lips pursed. "You're rather dull, aren't you? I can't see what Stefan saw in you."

The past tense made Elena flinch; it was instinctual at this point. The moment something painful – verbal, or otherwise – headed her way, she tried to dodge it by shutting down, but that seemed to have the opposite effect. She tried to pretend that Rebekah couldn't be just as wounding as Klaus, because, god help her, she wanted to find at least one redeeming quality in her, but it seemed despite her experiences in the supernatural world, words could hurt more than violent actions.

"I could say the same about you," she returned, but the comeback lacked the right level of energy to be effective.

Rebekah seemed to sense that, because a sarcastic smile bloomed into view, her lips a poisonous red that served as a bittersweet reminder of the world she now lived in, where blood could've stained those lips just as easily as lipstick, and Elena gave an involuntary shudder.

"To be fair, your ex-boyfriend had a different attitude when I knew him," the Original spoke, her tone thick with nostalgia. "Let's try this shop."

Elena sighed, wondering why Rebekah was even doing this. Half aware she was, once again, being dragged somewhere against her will, she tried to make the best of a bad situation by pretending to look interested in what Rebekah was showing her.

"The fashion today is kind of interesting," Rebekah was commenting, looking through various low cut tops. "Some items though," here she held up a mini-skirt, clearly unenthused by the very idea of such a thing, "seem to have been invented for the purposes of showing off too much skin, and back in my day, that was more than a sin – it was an invitation to be used and abused by men." She threw her hands in the air. "Why do women wear such things?"

"Attention," Elena replied quietly, unable to quite comprehend the surreal conversation she was having right now. "We like the idea of having all eyes on us, if only for a moment. Sure, it sounds shallow, and in some ways it is, but we still live in an age where women are consistently undermined by men. We have to get our kicks from knowing we have that little bit of power over them."

"Ugh. _Men_," Rebekah snorted, rolling her eyes. "Take it from me, Elena, the Stefan you had was the best of a bad bunch. Even when he was being an arse, he had this way of just making everything so...fun." She sighed, putting an item of clothing back on the rack. "I'm hoping he'll snap out of this broody phase, because one obnoxious male in my life is more than enough thank you very much."

"Why did you bring me along?" Elena demanded, folding her arms. "It can't have been to talk about Stefan."

"No, and you're hardly a ray of sunshine, so you're right in thinking I have another agenda entirely," Rebekah said, offering her a spiteful smile. "What do you think?" She held up a deep purple dress with a plunging neckline. "Too showy?"

"I'm not offering my opinions on your clothes!" Elena snapped, irritated. "I'm not your friend. I could run you know. Ruin your brother's plans once and for all."

"I know, but you won't." Rebekah gave her a cruel look. "For one, you're not that stupid, and two, you know you wouldn't be able to leave Stefan behind. Even after everything, you just can't leave seem to leave one another." Her eyes softened momentarily. "I saw the moment you two had yesterday. I miss that feeling; I miss having someone be physically unable to take their eyes off of me." She scowled, her flash of vulnerability gone as quickly as it had come. "You tell anyone what I just said and I'll rip your head off, got it?"

"You could compel me to forget," Elena sniped, her tone dripping with venom.

Strangely, rather than antagonising Rebekah, the remark seemed to please her, as if saying that had changed some sort of opinion she'd formed about her for the better.

"I would, but I'm not Nik," she said quietly. "I don't believe in compelling my way through life. I want eternity to be as real an experience as it can ever be." She looked away. "Not that I've done my fair share of compelling, but as someone who's lost a lot as a result of compulsion, I don't tend to use it if I can."

Elena found herself mildly surprised by this; Rebekah didn't strike her as someone who drew a line at anything, and yet it seemed she drew the line at compulsion. She had no idea how to process that given all she knew about the Originals – and by Originals, she wasn't including Elijah here, because she still saw something good in him despite his betrayal – they were selfish

"Well this shop's no good," Rebekah announced, her mouth turned downwards, as if displaying an air of disappointment that Elena found herself unable to reciprocate. "Luckily, this city has no shortage of them. Let's go."

This time, she didn't grab Elena to drag her, but there was still an expectant air around her, and without much else to do, she found herself following.

Elena hadn't really formed much of an opinion on the female Original, only that she had a venomous streak in her, not to mention a personality to rival any claimant for the title of Mean Girl. But the moment of honesty shared between them had her wondering whether perhaps there was another side to her; certainly there was a side of her that seemed tender towards Stefan, and though that bothered her, she couldn't deny that it was almost fascinating to learn about Stefan's other life, even though deep down she wanted to forget that that other part of him existed.

As they waded in and out of shops, Elena found herself thinking about the idea of escaping. Rebekah was right in the sense that she wasn't going to do it, but her reasons for denying herself that freedom were wrong.

She'd lost Stefan, that much was clear, and though her hope was all but extinguished of igniting some sort of life back into him, she had to put him on the backburner for now, because her new goal was working out what Klaus' bigger goal here was. It wasn't just to do with creating a hybrid army, this she'd worked out for herself, and it had taken her a while to work out what it was that bothered her about this entire situation.

Why was Klaus bothered about creating an army? He was invincible – pretty much – and nobody with any sense would dare stand up to him anyway.

Maybe there was a greater threat out there that she wasn't aware of; and while that train of thought drifted through her mind, a sudden thought struck her.

What if there was someone out there who Klaus was actually _afraid _of? That would explain the incessant need to create a hybrid army; everybody knew the main two reasons for having an army was either to gain something, or protect it. Maybe she could use this information to her advantage, somehow. She'd yet to understand how, but she began to realise why the Originals – Rebekah in particular – were the way they were, with perhaps the exception of Elijah.

She shook her head, wondering what possible use this knowledge could do for her given her current situation. All she could hope for was that this mysterious someone Klaus was running from would show up and take him down, yet that remained an unlikely scenario. All she could really do was keep her wits about her, make sure whatever weaknesses she observed stayed locked in her mind, and above all else, not lose faith in the idea of getting out of this nightmare.

Elena had to wonder for a moment where this sudden strength had come from, when earlier on she'd been drowning – poor choice of words, she suddenly realised – in despair, and then it dawned on her that maybe Rebekah had, in a strange way, got to her, and not in the hurtful way she'd come to expect. She made a resolution to find out more about Rebekah, marvelling at the possibility of gaining an unexpected ally. She'd read in Rebekah's eyes that she wasn't entirely comfortable with the life she already had, so if Elena could just play on that...

Maybe she was taking a shot in the dark, but with so little resources left to her, Elena knew she had no choice but to go for it. If the worst came to the worst, Rebekah couldn't do really much more than ignore her, because Klaus wouldn't let her harm her. Best case scenario, of course, might just be a ticket back to Mystic Falls, but she would have to play her cards right.

It was pure happenstance that her eyes happened to stray to the see through doors at that particular moment – she couldn't call it anything else, because she had no desire to ever see what she was currently witnessing right now, and yet it may have just turned out to be the blessing in disguise she needed.

There was no mistaking that set of auburn curls though, or that look of perfect cunning on her face, and even though Elena was a hundred percent sure Katherine hadn't seen her, there was no denying her doppelganger wasn't here by coincidence, because Katherine always had another agenda, and rather than fearing what that could've been, Elena decided not to look this gift horse in the mouth and use this situation to her advantage.

If only she knew how...

.

..

...

He ripped into the young girl's neck like it was nothing more than soft tissue. Two blood trails gracelessly meandered down, and his tongue lapped them up easily, eager to waste not a single drop of this precious substance.

Eventually, though, she had no more blood to give, and he tossed her aside, dragging his hand across his mouth, scooping up the remainders before jamming it into his mouth. He'd never been this hungry for blood before; each serving only satisfied for a mere moment before he was in dire need of the next supply. It was strange, but he was only too happy to oblige.

Klaus had seemed more than happy with his progress anyhow, and so had been absolutely content to let him go out and scourge the city of its pretty faces. Not that he'd needed the hybrid's permission or anything, because he was a loose cannon and proud to be associated with that term. He'd binged out, enjoying the sense of freedom that came with just not having a damn attachment to anything, or anyone, and he relished every part of his new life.

That was to say, he had relished every part of his new life, until...

"Well, you look a mess."

He blinked rapidly very much aware Katherine was in front of him, yet unable to come up with a good enough reason to explain why.

"You are aware Klaus is still around, right?" he asked, scrutinising her.

"Duh," she replied, rolling her eyes. "But I'm not stupid. He's checking in with one of his hybrids, so I thought I'd use this time to check in on you."

"I'm flattered," he replied wryly. "But the Katherine/Stefan ships has sailed, you know that right? In fact, I believe you were the one that sunk it by, let's see, compelling me and my brother to be your little bitches, and then being the reason we were killed and made into vampires, and to top off this glorious list of bitchy acts, you came back into my life to try and hand over Elena to Klaus to save your own skin, never caring who in the process got hurt."

"I saved you from that witch in Chicago didn't I?" she challenged, her eyes flaring up, no doubt as a result of having her misdeeds laid bare before her. "I offered you the chance to be my partner in crime, but apparently you and Damon share more than just genes – you share the incredibly annoying trait of utter stupidity." She shook her head, narrowing her eyes. "Elena Gilbert will be the death of you both, you do realise that right?"

"I don't care about her anymore."

Katherine scrutinised him.

"How odd – you really mean that." But rather than looking happy by that, she pushed her lips into a flat line. "You've gone off the deep end, haven't you?"

"I don't know what you mean." Stefan tossed the body of his latest victim over his shoulder. "I've never been better. I've never _felt _better."

"Klaus really did a number on you, then?" Katherine guessed, and her tone seemed to suggest she really wasn't happy by this, and he couldn't for the life of him work out why.

Then again, since when did he live to please Katherine?

"Why are you still following me, Katherine?"

"I thought I'd update you on what I've been up to since last we met," she said, smiling coyly. "And I couldn't really pass up a chance to see you again."

"Spare me the romantic bullshit, Katherine. I have no desire to ever be with you again, or anyone else for that matter." He delivered a smirk to rival Damon's. "In fact, I'd rather spend my life sired to Klaus than spend a second with you with any romantic attachment whatsoever."

She shook her head, smiling even though her eyes had lost that warm spark to them.

"How cute. The tough act doesn't suit you, Stefan, never did. But, since I'm feeling unusually generous, I thought I'd give you a heads up. We've found this guy called Mikael, who apparently is the guy Klaus has been running from."

"I know," Stefan replied curtly. "Rebekah told me."

"Okay, so you should know that when we – well, I – found him, he was full on lockdown. Chained up and everything. But a little blood soon got him going again..."

"Can I just preface this with a _why should I care_ monologue?"

Katherine rolled her eyes.

"Because chances are he'll be paying you a visit soon – and by you, I mean Klaus. You can make your escape after it all goes down."

He glared at her, not entirely sure what she expected him to say after she'd told him all of that. Was he expected to fall on his knees, grateful tears pouring from his eyes, worshipping the very ground Katherine walked on for giving him hope again?

Hope was for miserable people with nothing left to do but cling on to a feeble idea that things could get better. He was at the top of his game, with a blank slate he could write any kind of future on, and he was absolutely determined never to go back to that old life.

"Klaus is always one step ahead," he informed Katherine. "If he even gets one hint that you're here, he will find you, and I will definitely want a front row seat to that little show."

A flash of hurt rippled across her face before she pushed it aside.

"You know, I always thought impulsive remarks designed to wound was more Damon's thing than yours," she retorted. "I've risked my neck to alert you to what's going on. Do what you will with the information, but you should know the little I've heard about Mikael suggests he's been hunting Klaus for a long time, and he's not going to stop just because a stubborn and humanity-less baby vampire, no less, tells him to."

And with that, she turned upon her heel, and strode confidently away.

He didn't know what to do with this information. The idea of a Klaus-less future didn't affect him one way or the other, because either way he was his own man, but despite Klaus and his desperate desire to get back that comradeship they'd had in the twenties, he couldn't deny there was a tiny part of him that itched for a reason to just get away.

But somehow, something would always tie him to that bastard in some way.

An eternal debt.

A brief flicker of happiness shared between them like they were brothers.

A girl with a heart bigger than all the trouble her face had attracted since the beginning of time.

* * *

A/n: I DON'T WANT TO TALK ABOUT WHAT HAPPENED LAST EPISODE. It broke my heart. But let's move on. So Stefan really has truly shut down now, and the reason he hadn't quite before was because of a loophole I'm surprised nobody really addressed on the show. Klaus compelled Stefan to turn off his humanity, but he didn't compel him to keep it off, which was why I think we saw a little bit of it return when he caught Elena in 3x06. But now he's made the conscious choice to just let that side of him die away – for now – everything will change, and given Elena's situation right now, she's not going to make him her priority right now. But as events on the show combine with what's happening with this story, they will have to unite at some point, and I'm planning on making Stefan have quite a brutal and shocking wake up to what he could lose, so that will be coming up soon. Thanks for reviewing. I wish there was a bigger Stelena niche on this site, but it all seems to be dominated by Delena/Klaroline stories ha ha.


End file.
